Opening the Gate
by anacsadder
Summary: Comics movie cartoon. Otto makes a life changing discovery. It threatens the existence of the entire Spider-Man universe. Can it be stopped? Doc Ock, Electro, Scorpion, Mysterio, OCs
1. Intrusion

**New note: I fixed the formatting problems on this page. **For those who don't know:

Quinton Beck Mysterio

MacDonald Gargan (Mac) Scorpion

Dr. Otto Octavius Dr. Octopus

Maxwell Dillon (Max) Electro

Wilson Fisk The Kingpin

I don't own spiderman or any of the above characters. It is short but later chapters will be a little longer.

X)O(X

Quinton Beck was shaken from slumber by a soft sound in the pitch black of his room, a creak like a door opening. "Who's there?" No answer. Just the creak of the door closing. For a moment he thought it might be the storm blowing some branches against the window. Then, in the light of a bolt, he saw the door, open a crack, slip into the shut position. In the darkness that followed, he jerked upright in bed. Had it been his imagination? The tense silence was broken by the thunder and he leaped a mile before collecting himself. "Don't be an idiot," he scolded himself and turned to put his feet on the floor. Groping in the dark, he found the lamp and clicked it on. He took the knife out of the drawer and went to investigate. He opened the door on a dark, empty hall. All was still. He closed the door, looking puzzled, and started making his way back to bed. His foot encountered something cold and wet. There were wet prints on the carpet. He couldn't make any sense of their shape, but he could trace them back to his window.

Now, the great Mysterio wasn't used to being scared. There were few situations he couldn't worm his way out of with fancy stage effects. However, at that moment he couldn't think of anything else the feeling of cold fingers constricting his heart could be. He gripped the knife tighter and followed the puddles back to his door. That someone hadn't peeked in from the hallway and left. That person had come in through his window and gone into the hallway. But who would break into a crime lord's house? A rival crime lord? Some punk trying to impress his buddies? Quinton pushed the door open farther this time, letting the light flood the hall. The water droplets glistened on the tile, turning left and continuing until the darkness swallowed them. He went back for a light stick and ventured out into the hallway, not sure what to expect, exactly. The house was really quiet, almost dead. The rain pounded somewhere high above his head but he could barely hear it for its distance. His feet followed the circle of light on the floor for a good five minutes or so before the drops faded out and stopped. Quinton stood in the hallway and ran the light across the floor, up the wall, across the ceiling, and down the door on his left. There was a puddle outside the door, as if the intruder had stood there for a time. Who ever it was could have gone into Otto's room, though he couldn't imagine why. Then again, I can't imagine Otto letting anybody in, what with the way he's been behaving lately. Or perhaps he went on some midnight run. But then why would he come through my window? Quinton tapped lightly on the door and whispered, "Otto?" When there was no answer he spoke a little louder. "Dr. Octavius?" He tried the knob but the door was locked. "Are you in there?" Hm...well, maybe I should go back to- There were sounds of movement on the other side and he heard locks unlatching.

Otto Octavius left the chain on when he opened the door. "What do you want? Do you not know what time it is?"

The man certainly looked creepy without his dark glasses. His eyes had been deep brown before the explosion, but now they were an unnatural yellowish-gold. The skin around them was still scarred, though not as bad as it had been. "Is there someone else in there?"

"Why would anyone else be in here?" Otto glared disdainfully at the light in Quinton's hand. He took the hint and lowered it to his side.

"What is that on the floor?"

"It looks like water to me."

"I know that. How did it get there?"

"You should have asked that question to begin with," Otto growled. "Can't we talk about this tomorrow? I'm sort of in the middle of something."

"Are you sure you didn't hear anything?" Quinton pressed.

"Goodnight," Otto answered pointedly and closed the door hard. He didn't slam it, but he made sure the gesture indicated that he was ending the conversation right then and any attempts to continue it would be futile. "Bubble-headed imbecile," he muttered.

"Eight-limbed freak," Quinton spat at the door and went back to his room. Whatever the intruder was after, it obviously had no affect on him. Quite frankly, he didn't care what happened to Otto. Not if he was going to be such a stuck up prick.


	2. Good Morning!

[From Author to Reader: Yay, fan girls! Otto in the shower! Fan boys, too, I have no problem with that. They're all a little OOC, it makes writing about them easier. I didn't know how to reproduce Mac's way of speaking in the cartoon but I found it very fitting that he had a strange voice, hence the accent. Please don't flame me! I also apologize if you do not like my take on the arms. It's just one of those things about the whole fused to his body thing that I contemplated and found annoyingly overlooked. Uh...I don't own Hellraiser, but Nathan is an OC, however brief his appearance. I also still do not own Spider-Man or anything related to it.]  
  
Quinton couldn't wait to continue the conversation he'd started last night. He knew Otto was up to something and he was going to find out what. However, that morning, as on many other mornings that week, Otto stayed in his room. That arrogant bastard must think he's too good for us. As he made his way into the kitchen, he bumped into Mac Gargan. He pushed past him, still feeling insulted from the way he was spoken to last night and willing to take it out on anyone.  
  
"Were yah up last night?" Mac asked.  
  
"I thought I heard someone in the house. I was checking it out."  
  
Mac just stared at him. "Uh, yeah...Do what'cha like, but next time yah see Ock, be a little more quiet. All that bangin and screamin woke me up."  
  
"You pussy, I barely made a sound!"  
  
"Don't'cha dare call me names," Mac growled. The two men glared at each other, each waiting for the other one to throw the first punch.  
  
"Okay, break it up." Max Dillon pushed between them on his way to the refrigerator. "Is Otto up yet?"  
  
"No. As usual." Quinton paused. "You didn't hear anything weird last night, did you?"  
  
"Nope. Slept like a baby." Max took a swig from the orange juice carton.  
  
"Ug, now we gotta get more," Mac winced.  
  
"More what?" Max asked.  
  
"The orange juice. Yah got'cha amoebas in it."  
  
Quinton laughed. "If only Otto had been here to hear you say that."  
  
"Why?" Mac looked puzzled.  
  
The door opened and a timid face peered around it. It was Nathan, one of Wilson Fisk's household employees. "I...I'm sorry breakfast is late..."  
  
"Yeah, whatever." Max turned to the others. "I'm going to go wake up Otto. He's less likely to bite off my head." He picked up the carton, raised it to Mac in 'cheers' gesture, and swigged from it again. "If I'm not back in ten minutes, call an ambulance." He walked away with Mac glaring at his back. Feeling a bit too lazy to climb the stairs, he used the magnetic energy left over from the storm to fly up them. It was barely enough to hold him up, much less carry him quickly, but it worked just the same. His friend had been very secretive as of late, and more difficult than usual. In fact, Max was surprised Fisk was still willing to put up with his crap. About a week ago one could have called him fiercely independent, but now he was just touchy and reclusive. It was something to do with a new project he was working on. Five or six nights ago, when it had just been the two of them hanging out in the TV room, Otto had mentioned a life changing discovery he'd made. They had both been a tiny bit drunk, so it was most likely a slip on Otto's part. He'd never mentioned it again, and Max hadn't told anyone. "Dr. Octavius?" Max had opted for the polite formality because Otto responded better to the prefix 'doctor.' Probably something to do with his ego.  
  
Otto opened his eyes, winced, and closed them again. His head hurt like a bitch. "Just go away!" He sat up a little, shifted the arms around, and collapsed on his other side. Fisk had designed a bed especially for him, with an indent for the back piece and the arms, but Otto had never been able to sleep on his back, even as a child. He'd turned the offer down. Mostly he just slept on his stomach, now.  
  
"Come on, buddy. It's me, Max."  
  
"I never said I didn't know it was you."  
  
In the hall, Max tried the knob but the door was locked. "Fisk wants to talk to us."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Let me in and I'll tell you." Max heard something crash and was a little concerned until the door opened. One of the tentacles had knocked something over on its way to unlock the door. Otto hadn't budged. His back was to the door and as soon as the tentacle had completed its task it fell back to rest with the others, part of it hanging limply over the edge of the bed. "You sick or something?"  
  
"Long night," Otto muttered without looking at him. "What does Fisk want?"  
  
Max stared at the melding of flesh, metal and bone on the man's back. The spine-like apparatus practically nailed into his flesh looked like something from Hellraiser. "I actually don't really know." One of the tentacles lifted its head and seemed to glare at him. Max shrugged sheepishly. "But, hey, while you're up, you might as well come downstairs, right?"  
  
He used the tentacles to push himself into a sitting position. "Jerk." Otto tried to sound angry but there was still an undertone of laughter. He was careful to keep his back to Max as he stood up and sought out his dark green trench coat. "I don't suppose I could get you to wait in the hall."  
  
"You're not going to lock me out and go back to sleep, are you?" Max crossed his arms and smirked at Otto's back.  
  
Otto paused. "I'll change in the bathroom."  
  
Max nodded. "Mhm, that's what I thought."  
  
Otto grabbed some black jeans, bundled them and the trench coat against his chest, and went into the bathroom. When the door was closed behind him, he stood in front of the mirror and fingered the angry looking cuts on his chest. The largest one, from just below his throat to just above the harness, looked especially irritated. If any of them scarred, that one would. He disrobed and stepped into the shower to clean the cuts up. The arms shied away from the spray a little, hissing in his head. It wasn't that they couldn't get wet, it was that they didn't like too. He reached out to turn off the water and then decided to wash his hair first. He didn't know if Max was still out there or not but if he was, he'd be suspicious if heard the shower and Otto came out with dry hair. It was a nitpicky, paranoid little thing, Max would never ask questions about something like that, but he didn't want to risk it. He tipped his head forward into the spray and closed his eyes as the water ran down his face. The hot water threatened to lull him back to sleep but he wouldn't let it.  
  
When he was finished, he turned off the water and gritted his teeth, knowing what he had to do next. He dried himself off as best he could so he wouldn't drip on the floor and stepped out of the tub. He planted both the bottom arms firmly on the floor, held on to the curtain rod with the top two, and carefully adjusted them until they were supporting their own weight. "God I hate this," he muttered as he pressed a button on the side of the harness. The part around his waist opened and he bit his lip, feeling the weight of the arms pulling at his spine. He dried the pale, burn scarred skin underneath the harness thoroughly before closing it around his waist again. He sighed as the pressure was taken off his spine and slowly relaxed the arms. He hated it but it was something he had to do. The alternative was a skin infection or something just as bad under the harness, and the arms were causing enough problems without that. His newest discovery had made him wonder, though. If I could get the arms removed, would I do it? They hissed and turned to glare at him all at the same time. "Don't worry my pets," he crooned. "I wouldn't harm you." He patted one of the triangular heads and heard it sigh in approval. As he dressed, he continued to speak to them. "What shall we do today? Run the blood samples, perhaps?"  
  
Now, the tentacles, unbeknownst to their creator, were a tiny bit concerned with where this whole thing was going. However, they had agreed to wait and see what would happen, because so far it had been beneficial.  
  
Otto put on the trench coat, buttoned it up to his throat, and left the bathroom. Just as he suspected, Max was still there. Otto was faintly annoyed that this man was fussing over him so much lately. They were friends, yes, and he was concerned, but there was a line. "Do you know how hard I had to work to get away from my mother?"  
  
Max wouldn't let his sarcasm affect him. "We both had overbearing mothers."  
  
"Like mother, like son," was Otto's snappish reply.  
  
"If I hadn't stayed, would you have gotten up?"  
  
"Most likely not," Otto admitted.  
  
"Exactly." Max cracked his knuckles and they sparked a little. "I've filled my quota for the day by getting you up. I won't press the food issue, but I will recommend it."  
  
"I'll eat later. I have work to do."  
  
"Like what?" Max hoped he would talk more about the 'life changing discovery.' His interest was genuinely piqued.  
  
"Top secret. If I tell you, I'll have to kill you," Otto winked.  
  
Max smiled. "Fine, then. Kill me."  
  
Otto gave him a sideways look through the dark glasses. "You'll find out when I'm done. I don't want the full impact to be lost." They went downstairs and paused at the bottom. "When does Fisk want to see us?"  
  
"Not until later this evening."  
  
Otto nodded and turned to go down a second flight of stairs hidden behind the main stairs. He had a lab under the house, a state-of-the art lab, just as Fisk had promised.  
  
Max watched his retreating form and shook his head. It was a beautiful day, Fisk had a pool, and Otto was holing up underground. All well, not my problem. He shrugged and returned to the kitchen.  
  
[From A to R: Hope you enjoyed that. You're not supposed to know what Otto was talking about or why he was cut up, but you'll know when I am ready to reveal, so sit tight.] 


	3. Good Ultimately Suffers

[From A to R: Repto, I can dig where you're coming from. Our beloved Otto is not in this chapter, but we will return to him in chapter 4. Emma and Richard (however brief his appearance) are my OCs. I own nothing outside of that, though I have secret plans to one day own New York. evil grin]  
  
Peter Parker approached the destruction with his camera in his hand. His favorite boss had sent him out with a new reporter to get pictures. Looking over the mayhem, he wondered why he couldn't get some pictures of the animal shelter fund-raiser, or even the Flower Arrangers' club showcase in Central Park, for a change. The new reporter was a small woman, not of spectacular figure, with short, neat blond hair. She never showed any skin and she dressed very plainly, but there was something beautiful that sparkled in her silvery eyes.  
  
"I hate this city," she whispered to Peter as she scanned the crowds of people milling about outside the bank. She spotted the officer in charge and waved at him. "Sir!" He turned to her as she caught up with him. "Emma Renflier, from the Daily Bugle." She smiled her friendliest smile and put out a hand.  
  
He was ready to snap at her but as his hand touched hers he felt so warm he had to smile. "Miss Renflier, I'm a little busy now..."  
  
"This will only take a minute or two, I promise." She led him off to the side.  
  
"May I get your picture?" Peter asked.  
  
"Okay, just one." The officer smiled and posed with one thumb hooked in his belt.  
  
Peter knelt down a little to get the angle just right and pressed the button. Emma could sweet-talk just about anybody into cooperating. The mark of a good reporter, J.J. Jameson had once said.  
  
"What is your name sir?" Emma asked when Peter had finished.  
  
"Richard Thomas."  
  
"How long have you been on the force, Mr. Thomas?"  
  
"About five years. I'm very dedicated to my job."  
  
"It must be very fulfilling to know that people are sleeping easier because of you."  
  
"I wish it was always that simple."  
  
Emma could see it almost as clearly as he had. A jewelry store robbery. The burglars had been armed, and one had fired on the cops. Richard had panicked and fired back, hitting one of the guys square in the chest. The kid had been fifteen. There were various shots of TV screens with news reports, and a court room, a cursing mother, sobbing father. There was also guilt, and shame, self-hatred. Many other things, too, things that physically hurt her heart. A dead infant, a known child molester freed because of a technicality. Richard blamed himself. There were darker things there too. Depression, and even..."It's not your fault," Emma whispered.  
  
Those words struck a chord somewhere deep inside Richard. Those words had reached his ears so many times, but there was a differently quality in them when they drifted from her lips. He gazed into her eyes and saw perfect empathy and understanding. There was something else too...forgiveness? Salvation?  
  
"What exactly happened here?" Emma asked.  
  
Richard blinked and cleared his throat. "There was a collector keeping some rare gems in the safe. Someone broke in, killed two security guards, and stole some of them. We're still searching, but there doesn't appear to be anything else missing."  
  
Four, specifically. You left that part out. "Do you know how they were killed? I know this is morbid business, but the life of a reporter is hardly glamorous."  
  
"We are not allowed to disclose that information at this time."  
  
Though he was really just horrified that whoever had committed the robbery had been so bestial as to rip out their hearts. Emma wasn't surprised. She had seen worse things in her various dealings. However, she wouldn't publish what she heard from his mind, only what she heard from his lips. What went on in the mind was almost as sacred as heaven itself, and even more secret. "Fair enough. Any suspects so far?"  
  
"All the security cameras could pick up during the robbery was static, but we have reason to believe it's related to the four who broke out of prison last month."  
  
"Thank you for your time," Emma smiled and turned to leave.  
  
The smile was the crowning touch on the light that had begun seeping into his heart. Richard suddenly didn't want her to leave. He grabbed her elbow then jerked his hand back as though embarrassed. "Are you an...what are you?"  
  
"Merely a humble reporter." Emma waved and moved off to interview someone else. Was there anyone who could tell her the collector's name? So many personal things going on in other people's heads, some of it made her blush. She didn't like to pry, but this was about survival.  
  
Peter was wandering around the perimeter of the crime scene, snapping the occasional photo, but nothing too up close and detailed. He knew Jameson preferred carnage and chaos, but there was a fine line between informative pictures and insensitive pictures. There were people loading a body bag into the back of an ambulance. He caught sight of one of the bodies just before the bag was zipped and winced. There was a gaping hole in the man's chest, as if he had been stabbed with something quite large. The flesh around the wound was ragged and torn, so the object must have had rough edges. His mind automatically sifted through the usual suspects. The name Dr. Octopus surfaced first, though it was followed by the image of Scorpion's tail. However, Scorpion's tail was smooth and sleek, where as Dr. Octopus' tentacles were vertebra-like and rough, making him seem the most likely suspect. He frowned and looked across the crowd at Emma. She had finished interviewing Richard and was now talking to a paramedic. He turned back to the ambulance and snapped a picture of the body bag being loaded inside. Emma continued to move from person to person but as he watched it became clear the information was getting repetitive. After a while, Emma worked her way towards him. "Shall we return to base?"  
  
"Most certainly." She didn't even bother to open the car door, simply hopped in over the side.  
  
Peter opened the door and sat down like normal person, not wanting to call attention to himself. "Do they know who did it?"  
  
"They have the usual suspects," Emma answered darkly. "What did you find out?"  
  
"One of the victims was stabbed in the chest, with something quite large. I don't know about the other one. Beautiful city, huh?"  
  
Emma smiled blandly. "I'm not too found of it. I thought I'd get used to it eventually, but it's been a year and I still cringe when I step outside."  
  
"Why don't you move away?"  
  
"My job is here, my house is here. I don't know, I've thought about it a few times, but every time I do...something tells me to stay. I'm not exactly sure why, but I can't go yet. You know what I mean?" She glanced at Peter. Part time photographer, full time super hero.  
  
"Yeah." Peter rested his elbow on the door and put his chin in his hand. Her almost white hair whipped around in the breeze, glowing gold like it was one with the sun. He sighed, thinking of the fire that burned in Mary Jane's hair. It was a random memory, but as clear as if it had happened yesterday. They had been in class. He had been sitting behind her. As she had raised her hand, she had flipped her hair over her shoulder, causing it to erupt in a fire storm of reds and golds. The action had also showered him with the sweet, clean smell of shampoo.  
  
"Relationship troubles?"  
  
Peter jerked out of his dream and stared at her. "How did you..."  
  
"I've seen enough in my life time to recognize a troubled heart. Is there another man involved?"  
  
"No, not really...we've just...hit a rocky place." He paused. Emma didn't say a thing, didn't even look at him. She just waited. "She thinks I care more about...my job than her."  
  
"Do you?"  
  
"No!" Peter jerked upright. "Of course not!" He leaned back into the seat again. "I just...don't give her all the attention I should."  
  
"Would it be so bad if you took off for twenty four hours?"  
  
"I can't..."  
  
"Sure you can. Have a pajama day. I did that growing up, every other Saturday. It's so rejuvenating you wouldn't believe it."  
  
"What's a pajama day?"  
  
"It's takes a little extra planning, but basically you don't get dressed, and you don't leave the house. You can read, watch a movie, play games, eat, whatever, but you can't get dressed or leave the house." She stopped the car and added, jokingly, "If you think you can stand twenty four hours with no one but each other."  
  
"Perhaps I'll give it a shot someday." Peter meant it, too. There was silence as the pair made their way across the parking lot. The silence made Peter cringe. "So, uh, you've been in the city a whole year, huh?"  
  
"I transferred here to finish up college. When I graduated, I decided I wanted to be a reporter. It's easier to keep up to date on all of the amoral activity going on around here that way." Emma didn't feel like talking. She had a lot of thinking to do. Was it her? Has she finally found me? Four stones had been stolen. Four was a troublesome number to her. If Emma could only find out which four stones it had been. Even though she didn't feel like talking, however, it wasn't in her disposition to snub anyone.  
  
"Why did you transfer?" Peter asked, instinctively opening the door for her.  
  
Emma felt a little ill. She needed some water. "I got into some dangerous activities at my old school." She stopped at the water fountain in the lobby to take a refreshing drink.  
  
Peter looked surprised. "You got into trouble? You seem so...nice."  
  
"Unfortunately it seems to attract the worst type of characters. I'm doomed to keep running from them, because, unlike them, I don't have the capacity to harm a single soul." As she spoke they passed an employee on his coffee break. He was reading the Daily Bugle. Emma could hear him mentally admiring a layout he had worked on and smiled. Pride in one's labor, a necessary tool for living. She took pride in her eternal task, no matter how hopeless it seemed sometimes. The cover of the paper was again dominated by a story about the masked menace of Spider-Man. "It's a shame about your friend Spider-Man. This world seems bent on grinding all that is good into the dirt."  
  
Peter was again surprised, by how cheerily she had managed to say such a sad thing. He had tried to stop Jameson's lampooning of Spider-Man by depriving him of pictures, but he needed the money. It just wasn't worth the trouble. Though the bitter irony that he was assisting in tearing himself down, and being paid to do it, gnawed at him night and day.  
  
"It takes courage to stick by what's right, even if doing so will ultimately be your death." Have pride in what you do, Peter, no matter what they say. You are not bound by the same rules as I, and I may need your help.  
  
They were about to part ways, but just before they did he felt a uplifting sensation seize hold of his soul. He glanced at Emma, startled, for she seemed to be its source. The smile she gave him was reserved but so much friendlier than anything he had ever felt before. There was tenderness in it, and tranquility.  
  
"It was lovely to meet you, Mr. Parker. Perhaps we'll get to work together again, sometime."  
  
"Likewise," Peter responded weakly, still to overwhelmed to do or say much else. They turned from each other without another word. Peter made a decision right then. He would drop off the pictures, get his money, use it to purchase the appropriate supplies for pajama day, and go straight home to his beloved. So what if Jameson was just going to use them to make Spider-Man look bad? Peter knew it was all lies, and that was all that really mattered after all.  
  
[FATR: Sorry if it's a little cheesy, I had a lot of trouble with it. I really apreciate the reviews! It is the reader that keeps me going! I kiss your feet, oh mighty Reviewers, and encourage others to do what you have done!] 


	4. Ping Pong and Genetics

[FATR: School starts Tuesday so I won't be updating nearly as much as I have been. I don't own hot pockets or gator aid. Stephanie is an OC too. I had no intention of adding her, but she kind of wrote herself in. Erg, and after I went to such great lengths to cut down the number of characters before I started writing. All well, stories tend to have a life of their own. Ah, yes, Phoenix: Thank you for taking the time to review my story. I had an inkling that you had read it when I read the last chapter of your story but I wasn't quite sure. Everybody else: If you haven't read "My Immortal" by Phoenix Sheridan, you really should. It's so touching. At any rate, enough babble, on with the fic!]  
  
Mac slapped the ball back and it made a little plock sound against the wooden paddle. Max was ready for it and sent it back with a gentle tap. About ten feet away, Quinton was swimming laps in the smaller pool on the property. It was for just that purpose, swimming laps. There was a larger one farther from the house and more to the side, with a fake tropical island in the middle and a water fountain. However, it was primarily where the female employees sunbathed on their breaks. Max and Quinton liked to go flirt with them on occasion, though they were more feared than liked. Neither of them had ever scored, and Mac had been so rejected and ignored he had just given up. Otto would just roll his eyes and deride them all for being immature children ruled by their hormones. Otto was the oldest of the four and Quinton often took these remarks, and others like them, very personally. Max, on the other hand, had learned to joke them off. As for Mac, half of it seemed to go over his head.  
  
"Where's Ock?" Mac asked as he once again returned the white plastic ball. His arm was getting tired.  
  
"He's in his laboratory," Max answered, sarcastically emphasizing the word 'laboratory' with a haughty accent.  
  
"Yah could get 'im tah play."  
  
"He's far too focused. He kicks my ass every time." Max slapped back the ball and Mac missed it. "Besides, you know he doesn't do the whole bright sun thing."  
  
"He could wear his glasses," Quinton pointed out. He had caught wind of their conversation as he made his way across the lawn. He was toweling his hair dry. "He thinks he's too good for us."  
  
Max smirked at his team member. "Now, now, jealousy can only lead to malice."  
  
"Who says I'm jealous of that arrogant nerd? He's the kind of guy people like me used to beat up in highschool."  
  
"Ooo," Mac grinned. "I dare yah tah say tha' tah 'is face."  
  
"So, what time is it, anyway?" Quinton asked.  
  
"Changing the subject, are we?" Max smiled as he looked as his watch. He tapped it and frowned. "Two o'clock already?" He held it to his ear to see if it was ticking. "Can you verify that, Mac?"  
  
Mac held up his bare wrists and shrugged.  
  
"I'm bored. Maybe we should go inside, anyway, see what Otto's up to, or something." Max turned towards the house.  
  
"You hiding something?" Quinton teased.  
  
Max turned to eye him. "You implying something?"  
  
"I don't know. You've only been hovering over him obsessively for the last week," Quinton smirked. "Not to mention the night you both got shit faced in the TV room."  
  
"Neither one of us was 'shit faced.' Besides, you know I like girls."  
  
"I don't know that Otto does, and as far as you're concerned there is something called 'bisexual.'"  
  
Max was beginning to lose his patience. He could usually put up with any shit these people tried to throw at him, but Quinton had been nothing but a vicious little dickweed for the last four days or so. "We are just friends. If you've got some fucking problem with Otto, go work it out with him, but stop attacking him behind his back."  
  
"Fuckin problem," Mac snickered.  
  
Now it was Quinton's turn to whirl around in puzzlement. "What was that?"  
  
"Yah were the one sneakin tah 'is room las' night. Yah admitted it yahself. I heard yah go in, yah know. 'M practically right 'cross the hall."  
  
"Oh, interesting," Max grinned. "And what else did you hear?"  
  
"I told you, I heard an intruder. Someone came in my window, and I followed the trail to Otto's door. I never went in anywhere."  
  
It was Max's turn to snicker. "I see."  
  
Quinton punched Max in the shoulder but it was more playful than aggressive. "Shut up, pervert. I meant I never went in his room."  
  
"Then you should have said that first. Come on, I'm hungry." They both followed Max into the house.  
  
Otto leaned back in the chair, scrutinizing the computer screen. The screen was filled with an enlarged image of the nucleotide bases in the blood sample. There was a strange substance, something like a little white pearl, nestled between an adenine and a cytosine. A genetic anomaly. "What do you make of it, my pets?"  
  
The tentacles swirled around him, flower like heads blossoming, crimson eyes staring. They agreed with their master, it was a strange thing indeed. They wanted a better look, an isolated look, an inside look, even. They did, after all, share Otto's mind, and as such his compelling curiosity and desire to learn.  
  
Otto experimentally began targeting and destroying pieces of the surround DNA in an effort to isolate the biological oddity. The thing began to pulse, like a heartbeat, imperceptibly at first. Otto didn't even notice it for a good minute or two. When he did, he stopped, and watched it reconstruct everything he had just destroyed. Curious. He'd witnessed this agent's actions externally, but the fact that it worked on such a microscopic level as this was...dazzling. Yes, a beautiful, biological miracle. In mere milliseconds it was as if nothing had been destroyed at all. He began the process again, ignoring the pulsing thing, even as it became more and more insistent. It began to glow, and grow, as though to explode. He again ceased his work to observe. The tentacles seemed to pull back a little, even as he leaned closer. Then it did explode, but only to release more tiny pearls. They all began growing their own DNA, not simply replacing the old. Perhaps it had feared for the organism to which the blood belonged, and it had gone into overdrive, trying to resist whatever threatened it. The computer suddenly started flashing a virus warning. Before Otto could do anything it clicked off and left him in darkness.  
  
The tentacles moved forward again to study the man in the chair. He looked tired, pallid, a little disheveled. Entirely understandable. His organic hands remained on his knees but the top right tentacle delicately removed his glasses. The room was just about pitch black now, but for the red and blue lights undulating around him. The bottom left one came up to his face level and he looked right at it. His face was tinted red by its light, unreadable, calm, but the mechanical creature knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth.  
  
"That was interesting." He stood up and stretched his human arms, simultaneously taking the glasses from the tentacle that had removed them. He folded them and tucked them into the upper pocket on the inside of his trench coat. "Apparently I should never try that approach again." He put his hand to his chin and lowered his head in thought. "Such aggression, so dominating. If we had a suitable test subject, I could try an experimental transfusion." Short pause. "Quinton?" Otto chuckled. "An intriguing suggestion, but what if the outcome is positive?" The tentacles shook a little, opening and closing their triangular heads, as if they, too, were laughing. In the darkness, he heard rather than felt his stomach rumble at him. He frowned. When he got this excited about something, he usually forgot about daily body maintenance rituals, like eating. He may not have even showered this morning or slept last night if it hadn't been for-Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Otto, obeying his stomach for the first time in nearly thirty-six hours, made his way to the door, put on the glasses, and ascended into the light.  
  
The other three were on the screen porch directly outside the kitchen. They were each eating different things. Mac was eating nachos, though not very neatly, Otto observed, a little disgusted. Quinton was eating pizza, not one of those frozen creations, but real pizza. People could do that when they had their own chefs. Despite all of Fisk's resources, however, Max was consuming, of all things, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He had potato chips on the side, but they all knew well he liked putting them on the sandwich itself. Another habit that made Otto cringe. He just kept picturing potatoes smothered in grape jelly. It wasn't too appealing.  
  
As he contemplated the men clustered around the table, the tentacles snaked to the freezer, hunted down the Chicken Parmesan Hot Pockets, his favorite, and removed both from their box.  
  
It seemed uneconomical, to him, the way they were packed only two to a box. He went to get a glass of water.  
  
While the two had been hunting down and unwrapping, another got down a plate. The one that wasn't currently employed in any task opened the trash can so the one clutching the trash could dispose of it. It was team work at its finest.  
  
Otto stood over the sink, staring a nothing in particular, drinking the water, pretty much letting the arms think for themselves. They rested for a while behind him while they waited for the microwave to do its business.  
  
The microwave beeped and the mechanical limbs sprang into action once more. One pulled out the plate, two dumped the Hot Pockets out of their 'crisping sleeves' and onto the plate. The trash can was opened, the remaining trash was deposited, and the lid was closed with a clang.  
  
With a newly filled glass of water, Otto hesitantly made his way out to the patio. He wasn't generally very social, and the sun made him flinch a little at first. He knew that Quinton was beginning to misinterpret his antisocial behavior, however, and felt it was in the best interest of the group dynamic to make an appearance. Not everyone could be as patient or understanding as Max, and he had no idea how Mac felt about it. He didn't speak, didn't know what to say. He finally muttered something that could have been, "hi."  
  
"Hey. Maybe yah should switch tah Lean Pockets, huh?" Mac grinned. "Or per'aps follow the servin size on the box."  
  
That's the guy who doesn't like being made fun of. Can dish it out but can't take it back, huh? He's just trying to be friendly, take it easy. "Haha, maybe." Otto forced a smile. He was glad, however, that his glasses masked his true emotions as he suppressed all the memorable fat jokes his father had made about him. Some things just stay with you your entire life.  
  
"Make any brilliant breakthroughs, lately?" Max asked to change the subject.  
  
"I managed to crash the computer."  
  
"What were you doing? Downloading porn?" Max grinned.  
  
Otto cocked his head cryptically and smiled for real this time. "Perhaps something like that."  
  
"The great Otto Octavius? Having erotic thoughts?" Max clasped his hand to his chest in over exaggerated, sarcastic shock. "Never."  
  
"Actually, computer nerds and religious zealots are often the craziest in the bedroom." The speaker was Stephanie, the only maid who ever had the guts to flirt back. "No offense, Otto."  
  
"None taken," Otto assured, though he didn't look at her. He didn't look at anybody, for that matter, until he was sure he had control over the blush he thought was rising in his cheeks. "I was, however, under the impression you were a devout virgin." He looked up at her and raised an eyebrow.  
  
Stephanie looked genuinely puzzled. "Where did you get that idea?"  
  
"That's what'cha told me." Mac looked at her, puzzled, and she looked back guiltily.  
  
"Oh, right. I suppose I did."  
  
Quinton burst out laughing. Unfortunately he had been trying to swallow gator aid at the same time and started choking.  
  
Max smacked him on the back a couple of times. "Breath, man, breath!"  
  
Quinton flipped Max the bird. When he finally got his breath back, "Damn, Mac. That has got to be one of the roughest shutdowns I have ever seen."  
  
Otto had finished eating. It was another thing his father had teased him about endlessly, how quickly he could clean his plate. He picked up the plate and the glass and started to stand.  
  
"Let me get those. I am paid to do it." Stephanie reached out a hand and Otto seemed to stare up at her. She wasn't sure exactly because the glasses never allowed anyone to see anymore than his or her own reflection.  
  
Otto eyed Stephanie. Even though he'd been here for just about a month, he couldn't get used to the idea of being waited on.  
  
He handed them over emotionlessly. Try as she might, she couldn't read his face. Though their real use was to protect his eyes, he seemed to use the glasses as a barrier between him and the world. She took Quinton's dishes as well and disappeared inside.  
  
"She was totally flirting with you." Max teased as soon as the door clicked shut.  
  
Otto sighed. "Even if she was, I'm not interested." The tentacles clicked and swayed in agreement.  
  
"Why not?" Quinton asked.  
  
Otto forced himself not to laugh at the almost baffled expression on the blond man's face. "I don't-" He stopped and looked at the upper right tentacle. "Yes?"  
  
The others watched Otto tilt his head slightly as the tentacle moved closer to his ear. It wasn't as odd watching them converse as it had been at first, but it still made them glance at each other nervously. It was something about knowing each tentacle had a mind, a dark calculating mind, of its own, and only Otto could understand them.  
  
"Okay." Otto turned to make eye contact with the bottom right one as it snaked up from under the table, opening and closing ever so slightly. He smiled at it. "I realize this." Stephanie came back for the rest of the dishes and he returned his attention to those around him. "I require blood samples from each one of you."  
  
There was silence while this was processed. Mac spoke first. "Why?"  
  
"I'm doing an experiment."  
  
"Might I ask what?" Stephanie inquired.  
  
"You might ask, but I won't tell."  
  
Max grinned. "Hell, I'll play lab rat. Can't be much worse than being struck by lightening."  
  
The other two super villains shrugged and agreed. Only Stephanie remained dubious. "I don't know..."  
  
"Come on, my dear. Your blood is the most important of all. It is still entirely human, untainted." Otto smiled what he hoped was warmly. "It will be a tiny prick, nothing more."  
  
"I know. I hate needles."  
  
"Perhaps I will take you by force, then, eh?" He grabbed her with his human arms and swung her over his shoulder.  
  
She squealed in a combination of surprise and laughter. "I could have smacked my face on that spine thing, you know."  
  
"You didn't," Otto answered simply as he carried her inside. The others followed.  
  
Ten minutes later, Stephanie was standing off to the side, watching as Otto slid a long, glistening needle into Quinton's arm. She hugged herself and shuddered. When he finished, he carefully squirted the blood into a test tube, labeled it, and set it in a test tube rack. He unbound Quinton's upper arm and put a band aid on the wound. Quinton stood up walked away to stand behind her.  
  
"Next," Otto commanded without looking at anybody.  
  
Max, standing on Stephanie's right, raised his hand like a kid in school. "I'll go!" He jumped into the chair, a little over exuberantly. Otto bound his upper arm tightly and dabbed alcohol on the underside of his elbow. Max clenched his fist, the way Quinton had been instructed to do. The needle hardly felt like anything and he stared, fascinated, as it slid under his skin. Watching it fill with blood then slide out was equally if not more fascinating. "Don't I get a lollipop or something, doc?" He asked as Otto repeated same process as before. Otto chuckled and shook his head. Max shrugged and hopped up. "Worth a shot, I suppose."  
  
"Who shall my next victim be?" This time Otto looked right at Stephanie.  
  
"Er...I'll go last, thanks," she grinned nervously.  
  
Otto smiled back and began preparing for Mac.  
  
Mac was a tiny bit nervous but he wasn't about to let any of the other super villains see that. Especially not Quinton. Quinton would have a field day if he knew Mac was uneasy. Last time Mac had been the subject of an experiment he had...well, it had driven him insane. He wasn't as crazy as he had been, but the idea of returning to the roll of lab rat made him edgy. The fact that he was here of his own will at all made him wonder just how sane he was at this point. "Tha' needle's sterilized, right Ock?"  
  
The others had seemed to take longer than this one, Stephanie noticed. Maybe it's because I'm next. Quinton and Max had done it, no problem. In fact, Max had seemed disturbingly thrilled by the entire procedure. He hadn't taken his eyes off the needle the whole time. Mac was currently staring determinedly out into space. There was a troubled look in his eyes and she found herself wondering why. It occurred to her that she had known them all for almost a month but she really didn't know anything about them at all. She'd gotten her ass totally kicked by Max playing Soul Caliber II (she was half convinced he'd been using his powers to mess with her controller even though he swore up and down he hadn't); she'd come so close to beating Quinton in a swim race across the big pool; and she had helped drag a totally tanked Mac upstairs the night they had played drinking games in the game room. Now, here she was, playing guinea pig for Otto. It seemed she should- she was jarred out of her thoughts.  
  
Bored of watching the repetitive procedures, the bottom left had snaked over to see what Stephanie was doing. It had stared at her but she had been too deep in thought to notice it. The tentacle had closed and nudged her hard in the chest, unbalancing her.  
  
"Hey, watch it!"  
  
The tentacle pulled back a little, opening again to eye her. It rotated to the side slightly, the equivalent of cocking its head, emitting a series of clicks. Then it closed and started rubbing its 'head' against her chest like some kind of alien pet.  
  
Stephanie pushed the snakelike thing down to a less intimate level. "Watch the hands."  
  
Otto looked up from untying the band around Mac's upper arm. "They have wills of their own. I apologize, I'm sure it didn't mean to do anything...unscrupulous."  
  
Stephanie raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Wills of their own, huh?"  
  
Otto smiled. "Indeed. Now, if you would roll up your sleeve and sit down, we can begin."  
  
The others had all been wearing t-shirts. Stephanie discovered, to her relief, that she couldn't get her sleeve past her elbow. "Too bad, guess well just have to do this some other time." When she started to leave a tentacle came up to block her path.  
  
"You can't get out of this that easily. If the shirt is a problem, simply remove it."  
  
Stephanie whirled around to stare at Otto. "I'm sorry?"  
  
"Just take the shirt off," he repeated, perfectly calm.  
  
Stephanie heard some snickering and turned to glare at the group of super villains. "Shut up!" Something inside of her felt satisfied when they all stopped. They didn't flinch back or anything, but they stopped, which was empowering in its self.  
  
"Certain people's presences are no longer necessitated here." Otto stared pointedly at his three team members.  
  
"Nece-wha...?" Mac stared blankly.  
  
"We won't look, cross our hearts." Max made an X on his chest.  
  
"Maybe yah won' look," Mac grinned.  
  
"I'll do it, but I have conditions." She gestured towards Mac, Quinton, and Max. "I want those three to either leave or look the other way." Stephanie pointed at the bottom left tentacle. "And I want that tentacle to either stay closed or look the other way."  
  
Otto decided not to tell her that his tentacles could see what he saw and vice versa. "Those are fair requests."  
  
"Alright, then." Now that the whole shirt business was over, Stephanie felt a little queasy. When her shirt came off, she felt goose flesh tiptoe over her bare skin. "Is it always this cold in here?" She gulped when Otto picked up the needle. The florescent light shone along it and came to a sparkle at the tip as he approached.  
  
"Generally."  
  
She winced when he jerked the tourniquet tight around her upper arm. "I'm a little more delicate than those blokes over there, you know."  
  
"I don't believe that. Clench your fist."  
  
"Err...this might be uncomfortable for you," Stephanie whispered. you..."  
  
Otto looked up from sanitizing the place he intended to stick the needle. you...hold my hand?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
Stephanie couldn't read his emotions in his voice either. "My mom used to, when I got my vaccinations." He stared a little longer, shook his head slowly (she could almost imagine him rolling his eyes behind the glasses), then offered her a tentacle. She took it awkwardly, studying its gleaming metal surfaces as closely as possible. "What did you mean by that, anyway?"  
  
"By what?" Otto asked, distractedly.  
  
"That you don't believe I'm delicate."  
  
"You socialize with us, do you not? Besides, Max always cheats at video games."  
  
"I knew it!" Stephanie exclaimed, glaring at Max's back.  
  
"Did I hear my name?" Max called to them without looking.  
  
"No!" Otto called back, grinning.  
  
"There are times..."Stephanie started. Then she changed her mind, deciding it would sound stupid out loud. As she expected, Otto didn't press the issue. She wondered if he had even cared, if he had heard her at all.  
  
"There we go." He removed the tourniquet.  
  
"Huh?" Stephanie's head jerked around to look. He smoothed the band aid with his thumbs. The touch gave her a slight tingling sensation. He turned his back and she put one hand over the band aid. "I didn't even feel it."  
  
"You were too busy talking." Otto labeled her test tube and placed it with the others. He stood for a moment, gazing upon their potential with awe, admiring the way they shone, appreciating the slight variance in shade from sample to sample. The excitement of what he could do with them burbled in his own blood.  
  
Stephanie tugged down on the edge of her shirt and pulled her hair out from under the collar. It was dark brown, and usually tangled, especially in the summer. There had been times, lately, when she wondered what it would be like to have her own...powers. However, she wasn't sure what she would do with them if she got them. Being loyal to master Fisk and strangely drawn to (though most definitely not in a sexual sense) these four men, she wouldn't want to be a hero, lest she have to come up against them someday. On the other hand, Stephanie was an innately kind girl who could barely stand the thought of smashing a spider, much less hurting people.  
  
"We still have about three hours until Fisk wants to see us. By my watch, at least." Max regarded his watch distrustfully.  
  
"Why don't you just get a new watch?" Stephanie asked.  
  
"Because I got this one in a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and it has the funny talking cat on it." Max moved towards the exit with the others, pressing buttons on the watch.  
  
Stephanie lingered behind a little and looked at Quinton and Otto, alarmed.  
  
"It's a Shrek 2 watch," Quinton explained. "Don't worry. The guy may seem a little unstable at times, he was struck by lightening, after all, but he means well." Max and Mac were higher up on the stairs than the other three.  
  
Stephanie started up the stairs behind Quinton with Otto close behind her. "I thought Mac was the loopy one."  
  
"My dear, we are all a little 'loopy,' as you so delicately put it." There was a trace of amused sarcasm in Otto's voice. "We merely express it in different ways. Max bounces of the walls like an attention deficit child, and it gets worse when he's fully charged. Mac becomes irate when fun is poked at him, and possesses an abnormal aversion to germs. Quinton picks fights with anything that moves, and some things that do not."  
  
Quinton flashed the finger over his shoulder. "Fuck you, geek boy."  
  
Otto flashed Stephanie a 'see what I mean' smile. She smiled back over her shoulder, then stopped, puzzled. She slowly turned around, arms crossed. "And what do you do?" He looked startled by this question for a moment.  
  
He slowly removed the glasses, as the stairwell was dark, so he could get a better look at her.  
  
The tentacles moved forwards, half surrounding her as they arched over her head. This would have frightened anybody else, but she remained calm and collected. If she was frightened, she was hiding it remarkably.  
  
Otto seemed as though he were about to speak, but to Stephanie's disappointment an interruption came drifting down the stairs.  
  
"Hey! We're goin tah the game room. Yah guys comin, or what?"  
  
"That voice really grates on my nerves sometimes," Stephanie mumbled, referring to Mac. Otto merely half shrugged. Stephanie turned to keep walking but the tentacles still hung in front of her, looking like bionic jungle flowers and vines. She passed beneath their gaping 'faces' and continued up the stairs with Otto a foot or so behind her.  
  
[FATR: Just to make sure it's clear, that little bicker they all had was NOT intended to be gay bashing. I am bisexual myself, so it would be kind of hypocritical to criticize same sex dating, wouldn't it? I messed around with their ages a bit. I'm not entirely sure how old they all are myself, but if any one needs a refference: Otto is in the late thirties, early forties range. The others are more around late twenties to early thirties. I appreciate ALL of my reviews! Which favorite story shall I hype next time? Stay tuned, it could be yours...] 


	5. Pajama Jama

[FATR: Yay fan boys (and girls) MJ in the shower! I know it's short but I have no time. I forgot to add that I don't own Shrek or anything related to it, but I'm sure you know that. I own nothing in this chapter. I don't own cookie dough bites, I'm not the inventor of the puzzle, "pajama jama" is the name of a children's book...eh, you get it. I still have a lot to learn about posting, that bit in the last chapter with Stephanie asking Otto to hold her had got messed up. Apparently the "could" got cut off. I'm taking steps to make sure it doesn't happen again. Shir-ran: I don't know if I'm going to keep the Rosie element from the movie or not. It might get in the way, and it might make for some interesting plot twists and angst. I do like putting my favorite characters through a bit of suffering for some reason. Story of today's update? "Make Me Feel" by QuickSilver10hiei. It is the most original bit of Otto work I've seen so far. It is very controversial for its slash (for those who don't know slash is a male/male pairing) but if that kind of stuff doesn't bother you it comes highly recommended. Enjoy the latest installment of Opening the Gate!]  
  
Mary Jane Watson finished shaving her legs and allowed the water run down the length of her body. Conditioner and soap ran off into the tub and down the drain. She shut off the water and stepped onto the bath mat. She secured a fluffy white towel around her breasts and wrapped another turban style around her dripping red hair. Her feet traced wet prints across the hall and into the bedroom. As she rifled through her closet, she heard a sound at the window.  
  
"Do I get three wishes?"  
  
She whipped around, not in fear but joy, and smiled euphorically at the red and blue figure. "You're home early."  
  
Mary Jane crossed the room as the figure landed on the carpet and peeled off his mask. Beneath it Peter was beaming back. "For my first wish, I think I'll have a kiss."  
  
They fell into each other's arms and kissed passionately. His arms slid around her waist, holding her to him. When Mary Jane went to put her arms around his neck she felt the back pack he had made out of webbing. The kiss broke and she leaned back, her hands still on the nape of his neck, his arms still around her waist. "Slow day?"  
  
"Relatively speaking. Besides the bank break in, there were only a couple of muggings." His brown eyes remained on her green ones for five or ten minutes, neither of them speaking. Each just stood and enjoyed the other's presence. The only sounds were the cars and voices in the streets below.  
  
Mary Jane broke the silence. "What's in the bag?"  
  
Peter looked puzzled for an instant, then grinned. "Oh, right." He broke away and set the bag on the corner of the bed. "I... I know I haven't been giving you the... attention you deserve lately..."  
  
Mary Jane crossed her arms and looked skeptical. "Uhuh..."  
  
"Well, I got this idea... actually I heard about it from someone at work... It's called pajama day. I figured we could give it a try." He pulled some videos out of the bag, a little pack of microwave popcorn from the video rental place, an 800 piece puzzle, and an Uno deck. "I also got you some of these."  
  
The last thing out of the bag was a box of cookie dough bites. Mary Jane's eyes lit up. The only places one could find those chocolate covered drops of heaven were overpriced theater snack counters and video rental places. They were frivolous and unhealthy so she didn't get them often, but they were her favorite candy in the world. She cupped his cheek with one delicate hand. "Thank you. Now how about you tell me about pajama day?"  
  
Peter smiled. "Starting now, until at this exact time tomorrow, you have my complete and undivided attention. Neither of us is leaving this apartment."  
  
Mary Jane felt love bubbling up inside of her, but she quenched its rise suddenly. She had heard him promise to give up being Spiderman for an evening to see her play, or to make a dinner date, but it had never held out for long. "Do you promise?"  
  
"I vow before God in heaven," he assured. When he spoke those words he felt a strange tingle somewhere in his soul. It wasn't his spider sense, it wasn't loud enough to be, or urgent enough. It must be love. I'm with the woman I love. I still can't believe she chose me of all people, but here I am anyway.  
  
Mary Jane pounced on him in her joy, wrapping her legs around his waist. Peter allowed her momentum to carry them to the mattress, though she knew he could have caught her. They landed entwined in each others limbs and emotions. "I love you, Peter," she managed to mumble between kisses.  
  
They had remained together, just kissing, for about six minutes. Mary Jane's damp red hair was now spilling across his shoulder and arm as they cuddled together. His fingers raked through it lazily, though he couldn't feel the cool silkiness due to the fact that he was still Spiderman from the neck down. "I really am sorry, MJ."  
  
She lifted her head from his chest and rolled onto her stomach to look at him. The act of rolling over brought her into a position straddling his right leg. "For what?"  
  
"I broke up your engagement, moved in with you, and have barely been around since."  
  
Mary Jane sighed. So that was still weighing on his mind. "It's not that you are out all the time. I respect and admire what you do for this city. It would be selfish of me to keep you all to myself when there are people out there that need Spiderman." She paused, not sure if what she was about to say would put him more at ease or trouble him even more. "It's just that...I worry. When it's three in the morning and you're still out, I wonder if maybe this time...maybe this time one of those super powered creeps got the best of you."  
  
Peter felt a pang when he saw the depth of her concern in her eyes. He never thought about his own mortality as a general rule. It was something he couldn't afford to dwell on it, not in his line of work. "It would take a lot to get the best of Spiderman."  
  
That doesn't mean it can't be done. Mary Jane decided not to push the issue, decided not to mention all the nightmares that had kept her up in his absence. Now was their time to be together, now was their time to be completely and utterly in love. "So, what's first on the pajama day fun list?"  
  
"Putting on our pajamas, of course. Though I can't honestly complain about what you're wearing now." Peter gave her a devilish grin and she giggled.  
  
"Down, tiger." She stood up and fished a long cream colored nightgown out of her drawer. The top was lacy and sequined. It was silk, just about brand new from one of her stress shopping trips to Victoria's Secret. It had been during the Electro fiasco, when Peter had stopped him from draining the entire city of power. According to Peter, the man had been in severe emotional distress at the time, and the stunt had been intended as a sort of confidence booster. He had just gotten out of jail for some reason or another, and had finally managed to secure a minimum wage job as a mascot for some new taco joint. I probably would have had some self-esteem issues, too. By pleading insanity, his lawyer had managed to lessen Electro's sentence. He was one of the ones who had broken out last month. Mary Jane was surprised and delighted that Peter was willing to let everything go for her, even with those four wackos out there planning who knows what.  
  
Peter put on his grey sweat pants and a white T-shirt. Mary Jane looked like a fairytale princess standing in front of the mirror combing out her hair. The nightgown complimented her skin tone perfectly and her hair burned like hot embers. The dress hung just about to her ankles and he could see her dainty bare feet. She was standing with her weight primarily on the left one, her right knee bent slightly. Emerald eyes, ruby hair, pearly teeth, and ivory skin. He looked from her goddess like form to his own scrawny, sweat pants clad self and laughed in his head. What a pair they made. "What do you want to do first?"  
  
She put one arm across her stomach, rested her elbow on it, and touched the comb to her soft pink lips while she thought. "I vote for the puzzle." She helped Peter clear the coffee table. She returned to the room to retrieve the puzzle and stopped to study it. It was a fair at night, all lit up, with crowds of people frozen in their rush. There was a Ferris Wheel, a Tilt-a-Whirl, and tons of food and game stalls. A Roller Coaster snaked across the skyline against a starry sky. When she entered the living room, Peter was waiting for her behind the coffee table. He had pushed the table out from the couch and was sitting cross-legged on the floor with his arms crossed on its surface. As she situated herself across from him and opened the box she took in his boyish charm, tousled brown hair and brown doe eyes. Despite the fact that he was Spiderman, he was really gentle and peaceful. People wondered why she had chosen Peter. She had chosen him for his politeness and preference of intellectual intercourse over sexual.  
  
Peter and Mary Jane began sorting out the edge pieces in comfortable silence, neither feeling the need to fill it yet. That was a crucial component in a deep relationship, the ability to just be quiet together and feel perfectly okay with it. 


	6. Wrestle Mania

[FATR: I don't own Dance Dance Revolution (DDR). This story has surprised me again. I didn't really mean to send it in this direction but I won't fight its chosen course. This could be a chapter for Scorpion fan girls (if any are reading this). Don't get discouraged, Otto fan girls, he's in here too, and in the grand scheme of things he is the main character. He is, after all, my personal favorite. I have big plans for our eight-limbed sex god. As far as this chapter goes, HOORAY FOR ESSENTIALLY PLOTLESS VIOLENCE!!!! Ahem. Featured Story: "Falling Feels Like Flying" by erinflanagan. The descriptions are rich and the... I don't want to say humor because there are things besides the humor that are also witty. Escher is a great character. Just give it a look if you haven't already. Now, for those of you who stuck with my babble this far, on with the fic!]  
  
While Peter was romancing Mary Jane, the four super villains were busy doing something of an entirely different sort.  
  
"Yeah, crack 'is god'am head in, Quin!" Mac cheered.  
  
Quinton looked up from Max, whom he gripped in a headlock, long enough to rebuke Mac for calling him 'Quin.' "It sounds like a fucking girl's name."  
  
"I can see how he'd get confused, what with that blond ponytail thing you've got going there," Max taunted. This earned him a fist in the abdomen. Max growled and knocked Quinton off with a burst of electricity, causing him to hit the nearest wall.  
  
Quinton was momentarily stunned as he slumped to the floor. "The rules are set down, no one uses powers unless it involves actual, physical strength."  
  
"You fucking punched me in the gut, what did you expect?" Max smirked, more amused than angry.  
  
"He's right," Otto spoke up from the sidelines. "Five second penalty on Max." The two fighters nodded and returned to their match.  
  
As he spun around Max punch Quinton square in the face, while he was still off guard. Quinton recovered quickly and tried to round kick Max in the side of the head. Max caught his foot and swung him to the ground. Quinton rolled and hopped up. The two men stalked around each other, sneering.  
  
Quinton tackled Max, the force carrying them both two feet before they landed. They struggled on the floor for a while, each trying to get the upper hand over the other. Quinton flipped Max on his stomach and twisted his arms behind his back with one hand while bending Max's knees back and wrapping his other arm around Max's ankles.  
  
Max struggled as the count began and almost got an arm free. Quinton threw more weight into the pin, shoving his knee into Max's back. Max thought he heard something pop but wasn't quite sure. I can hardly breath, you bitch! He debated cheating again but decided it wasn't worth the energy.  
  
"4... 5... Quinton wins," Otto announced indifferently.  
  
Max rolled his eyes as he got to his knees. "Your enthusiasm is underwhelming, doc."  
  
"If only you guys had any idea how that looked," Stephanie giggled from the DDR machine. "Very cute." Her shift had ended an hour ago and she had been using the time to play just about the only game in there she was notably good at. Max, always willing to try new forms of entertainment, had played a few times. It made them laugh, and he seemed to like the attention. The reason she had been able to watch their shenanigans at the same time was because this was her favorite song and she had it just about memorized. "I doubt you should be beating each other up just now, anyway," she continued as the song ended. She pulled her hair off her hot, damp neck and secured it in a messy ponytail. "You want to be fresh for whatever it is master Fisk wants you to do." As she joined them she noticed that Quinton's lip was bleeding.  
  
"Hey, why don' yah wrestle me?" Mac grinned.  
  
"Oh, please, it isn't even a contest," Stephanie laughed.  
  
"Yah tha' sure a yahself, huh?"  
  
"No, I'm that unsure of myself."  
  
"C'mon, I'll go easy on yah," Mac winked.  
  
"Yeah, why don't you do it?" Quinton challenged playfully.  
  
"Do it! Do it!" Max chanted.  
  
Stephanie turned to Otto who stood, with his arms crossed, leaning slightly on the bottom two tentacles. He merely shrugged at her. She sighed. "Fine, I'll give it a shot. Are there going to be any rules for Mac to break?"  
  
"Now don' be like tha'. What kinda man would I be if I couldn' be hones' with a lady?" Mac pretended to be offended.  
  
"No punching, biting, or-" Max started.  
  
"Oh, come on!" Stephanie interrupted. "There's no need to treat me _that_ much different just because I piss sitting down!"  
  
Max contemplated this. "Okay, you can't hit or kick Mac in the berries, and he can't hit or kick you in the peaches. The same rules about powers apply. Anyone who breaks the rules gets time knocked off their required pin time. Enough violations result in an automatic forfeit."  
  
"Is the ref ready?" Quinton inquired of Otto.  
  
"Always." He shifted his weight back to his feet and the tentacles snaked around so that he could view the match from all angles. "Game start."  
  
Mac and Stephanie began circling. Mac was poised to pounce, always ready to go on the offensive, but Stephanie's stance was more wary and defensive. "Yah know, he didn' say nothin 'bout grabbin," Mac grinned.  
  
Stephanie smirked back and flashed Mac her nails. "I'll keep that in mind." He raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.  
  
It was clear that she had no intention of making the first move, so Mac took the liberty. He crouched low and launched himself into the air.  
  
Stephanie avoided being tackled, but just barely. Her hours on the DDR machine paid off when it came to hand-eye coordination and reaction time, but she knew she couldn't just keep dodging Mac. To win she would have to pin him, which she knew she wasn't strong enough to do, and she would tire out before him. As she whipped around to face him, still in defensive mode, she watched him turn to face her in mid air a split second before he landed. He assumed another arachnoid position and she saw his muscles bunch to launch him again. She spun out of the way and made a split second decision to hook her arms under his armpits. She locked her hands behind his neck. He was taller than her so the move forced him to bend over backwards. "I've had just about enough of your giant grasshopper impressions."  
  
The smile on Mac's face may have been evil enough to scare even Stephanie if she had seen it. "Okay." He tucked his head down and jerked forwards in one clean movement. The move caused her to flip over his shoulders. She didn't let go, so he went over with her.  
  
Stephanie landed on her back with Mac on his back on top of her. It knocked the wind out of her. She hadn't realized he was that heavy. Somehow, however, she had managed to maintain her grip on his shoulders. As he struggled, she squeezed tighter, thinking of nothing but holding on, though it was difficult to get her breath back with him on top of her. Vaguely aware that Otto had begun the count, she pushed hard off the floor with her foot and tried to roll Mac on his stomach. She succeeded, but she wasn't heavy enough to keep him there.  
  
Mac got to his knees and looked over his shoulder at her. "Are yah gonna le' go or do I have tah get real violent?" Stephanie scowled at him and pulled still tighter. The flip before had pulled a muscle in his shoulder and it complained when she did this. Well, she gives me no choice. He threw himself backwards onto the ground.  
  
Stephanie's head cracked down audibly and white and red sparks temporarily blinded her. She let go to put her hand to her head and groaned a little, thankful the ground was carpeted. The colors cleared just in time for her to see Mac coming at her again, this time to finish her off. She put her feet together and launched them with all her strength into Mac's chest. She had been aiming for his solar plexus, knowing that a blow like that would take anybody out, but had, in her confusion, miscalculated. His chest was like a rock and it probably hurt her just about as much as it had hurt him, if not more.  
  
The blow made Mac stumble back just long enough for her to get up but it hardly fazed him. He was sweating slightly, but she still looked much more worn out than he felt. She was a little wobbly on her feet, probably from the clonk on the head. He found himself hoping he hadn't hurt her too much. Stephanie was, after all, a nice girl, and he didn't dislike her. Her head was down and he tilted his head, trying to see her face. "Yah okay?"  
  
"I'll survive," she lied, trying to keep the moaning tremor out of her voice. When she saw his face, however, she noticed he had heard it anyway. Well, of course he had. He was a predator, after all. She drew up straight and steadied herself. "Well, come on."  
  
Mac mentally sighed. She was determined, he had to give her that, but the fight was just about over. He had expected her to wait for him to attack again, but his time she rushed to meet his attack. They clashed in the middle, their fingers interlocking as each tried to topple the other. She was stronger than she looked but not strong enough. He squeezed her hands mercilessly but she never cried out. Her eyes watered but she never closed them, never tried to pull her hands away. In fact, she began digging her nails into the backs of his hands as hard as she could. It stung, but not enough, and his size and strength finally overpowered her, forcing her to her knees. He sank with her, pressing her over backwards.  
  
Stephanie felt her shoulder blades touch the floor. Being a dancer, bending her knees in such a way was not painful in the least. Her feet, however, were being crushed under their combined weights. She heard Otto begin the count but it seemed like time was moving much more slowly than it should as she struggled against Mac. Between three and four, she caught Max and Quinton exchanging an uncomfortable yet still amused look. Suddenly it occurred to her. Mac was practically straddling her, pinning her hands on either side of her head, pressing his body on her to keep her back on the floor. This man had hit on her more than once before, until she had lied about being an avowed virgin. Instinctively she tried to seek his thoughts in his face but of course she couldn't see it. His face was right next to hers, with his cheek close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from it onto her own. When she turned her head her cheek brushed his and she suppressed a blush.  
  
Time was called and Mac released her, sitting back on his heals. That hadn't been entirely unpleasant. He studied the backs of his hands. There were little red crescent moons printed beneath each of his knuckles, but only one was bleeding. "Yah stronger than I 'riginally thought."  
  
Stephanie sat up too. "You're heavier than I originally thought."  
  
"With practice yah could win nex' time."  
  
Stephanie got to her feet and stretched. "Oh, no. That's the last time you'll be on top of me for a while. I'm going to shower and take some aspirin. I'd advise you three to clean up a little before you go meet master Fisk. You have about an hour." 


	7. Summoned

[FATR: Wow, Repto, that is _dedication_! I update my story and, out of boredom, check back about an hour later. I gasp in surprise to see that Repto has already read and reviewed! Not only that but it was my only review for chapter six. To show my full appreciation, I dedicate every single Otto bit in the chapter to you, Repto. /big grin/ ... /Stares at lack of reviews, shrugs/ On an interesting note, it was my idea to use reflective glass to look at myself. I didn't patent it. Boy was that dumb. To tell you the truth I own nothing in this chapter except the Underwoods and their background story. Poor Max and his issues, poor Otto and his issues... Speaking of which, if anyone dislikes that I made Max like Shrek 2 so much, I'm sorry, but it has symbolic value. I started doing thoughts in itallics to hopefully prevent any confusion that may have resulted. Without further jabber delay, I present drum roll chapter 7!]  
  
A shirtless Max splashed some water on his face and peered hard at himself in the mirror. He turned and twisted to look over his shoulder at the bruise Quinton's knee had left in his lower back. His hand pressed to the spot, seeking the source of the pop he had heard. There didn't seem to be anything too serious going on inside his body, so he turned back around and forgot about it. _Why do I bother with the matches anymore? I barely ever win, unless it's an Anything Goes fight. Even then, Otto generally kicks my ass. Ever since he insulated the arms... Wrestling and Ping Pong. Dammit, can't he give me something?_ He leaned over the sink again to peer hard at his reflection. Were his ears crooked? He turned his head this way and that. This brought his attention to his hair. It wouldn't have been so bad if it had been deep ruby red like that actress what's-her-name, or even strawberry blond, but no. It was that plain orange-ish red. He straightened up. Now that he looked he realized he was a little scrawny, in comparison to the others at any rate. _Fuck, I could've won that match if Otto hadn't been so fucking strict with the penalty. Just two more seconds, two more seconds and that ponytailed bitch would have been mine! No. Don't blame Otto. It wasn't Otto's fault all those times Spider-Man trounced you, was it? No. You couldn't even pull off the city wide black out scheme, could you? The web-head had to save your sorry ass.  
_  
Max's fists clenched at his sides and his teeth clenched in his mouth. The mirror reflected him back, mocking him with his own image. "What the hell are you looking at?" He snarled, glaring hatefully at himself. His reflection glared hatefully back. He pulled back his fist and made it connect with the glass at an immense speed. The scowling, taunting image of himself fragmented into a million shards. For an instant time stood still, the shards remaining inexplicably suspended in their frame.  
  
A teasing feminine voice giggled, "That's seven years bad luck, you know."  
  
Max blanched and jerked around to survey his room. As soon as his fist left the glass, timed resumed and his abrupt action was accompanied by the tinkling sound of falling shards. He leaned back against the counter, gripping the edge with his hands. Indeed, he was alone. _Must've been in my head._ He didn't even acknowledge his bloody knuckles as he left the bathroom. The fire that had momentarily flared in him had been dowsed by that voice and left him feeling like a hollowed out shell.  
  
Sitting on the edge of his Shrek 2 sheeted bed, he reached for the gizmo on his night stand. It was a metallic silver, circular shaped base that held four metallic silver, joystick-ish handles. They were detachable connected to the base by chords that resembled those curly-cue telephone chords. It was a gadget from Spencer's Gifts. The idea was that up to four people would hold the joysticks and wait for the countdown to complete. The machine would then release a mild shock, perhaps surprising the unwary into a little shriek. This one, however, had been significantly altered. Now it plugged into the wall and released an exponentially larger amount of electricity. He selected two joysticks and held one in each hand. Thinking joyfully of the little noises of anger and annoyance that would echo throughout the mansion when he did so, he pressed the buttons mounted on the heads. The voltage flooded through him causing him to close his eyes and tilt his head back ecstatically. The feeling was rather sexual, almost but not quite orgasmic. Lights flickered around him.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"What happened to the power?"  
  
"Max, you little shit!"  
  
When Max finished powering up, he replaced the glistening item and went to his closet. He pulled his suit on and paused before donning the gloves. He gawked at his bloody hand as if he had never seen it before. Then he shrugged and slid on the yellow gloves.

:o) (o:

Otto entered his room and locked the door. The tentacles rose up to scour every shadow but they were alone.  
  
The tentacles carried Otto up the wall and onto the ceiling. The bottom two dug into the soft plaster while the other two released their hold. Otto now hung upside down from the ceiling, looking more like a bat in his leather coat than an octopus. He removed his glasses and presented them to the waiting tentacle. His eyes closed and he allowed his mind to merge fully with those of the tentacles. He could see five screens on the backs of his eyelids. Three were black, one was watching him, and the last was an extreme close up of his glasses being deposited on his night stand. It was easy to see through the arms when his eyes were closed, as simple as watching TV, but open he had dimensions to contend with. That's what he was working on. He'd made a lot of progress. Where him and the arms had once been separate entities, he could now truly be one with them. They weren't just pets that bowed to his commands, they were him.  
  
Once he had established a solid link with them, he opened one eye. Through the other he was still watching the separate screens, but now the first screen was half lit up with an image of the floor directly beneath him. There was no way to describe what it was like when he opened his other eye. He used to get headaches trying to wrap his brain around the forms and figures, but he was beginning to be able to make sense of it. Once the connection had been established and the sense of vertigo had fled, Otto set about lulling his mind into a state of deep meditation.  
  
The first thing he saw when he cleared his mind were her icy eyes. It was strange that such a warm blue could convey such malice. Her eyes greedily gobbled him up. He was helpless to escape the magnetic force of those black and blue pools, but he didn't want to escape. Cyan light erupted around him as he plunged into the chilling blackness. It reminded him of crashing through thin ice. A familiar lurch preceded the feeling of absolute weightlessness. It was like death floating suspended in the frosty water, at least he assumed it was water. When he moved his limbs he felt resistance from the surrounding space. Where was he? He had the feeling he had just transcended some boundary, but what and to where were never clear during these exercises. As he had passed through the barrier a name unwillingly burbled out of his subconscious. He was immediately consumed by conflicting emotions, principal among them uplifting joy and depressing shame. These feelings threatened to disrupt his concentration and he couldn't have that. He swam what he perceived to be down (though he couldn't be sure), running from emotion, seeking numbness. There was peace there, and he stayed for thirty or forty thankfully unfeeling minutes.  
  
The dim bulb flickered and screams of protest drifted in to meet his eardrums. At this, Otto began to slowly ascend out of the dead ocean in which he had submerged himself. He was reminded of the danger of resurfacing too quickly while diving. One must enter and exit this place in stages or there could be serious repercussions. She had never specifically described the danger, but Otto hadn't needed to be told. It was awesome power he was dealing with here, moving back and forth between these worlds, and until he could learn more, he didn't want to push it. There was a feeling of... settling as up and down once more came into being. The arms were coming back to life, too. He could see each head unfold and glance around, even with his own human eyes closed.  
  
The bionic creatures shook off the cold and set about gently returning their master's feet to the floor. They felt stronger than before. They were jazzed for the evening, ready to topple buildings. Their master's slightly slower return to consciousness made them impatient and they moved to nudge and stroke him back to reality.  
  
Quinton pounded on the door. "Get a move on, Otto. Fisk isn't a patient man, you know!"  
  
Otto snatched up his gloves, glasses, and hat with four different arms and donned them all at the same time, even as he strode across the room. Never having to pause once, he opened the door.  
  
Quinton watched Otto through the white light given off by the dome now situated over his head. When he was in his costume, Otto tended to stay mostly in front of him or mostly behind him, lest any of the light should leak around the corners of his glasses. Quinton allowed this, even did his part to assist Otto in his endeavor. The metallic snakes sprouting from Otto's back seemed more restless than usual, demonstrating this through a writhing and twisting dance. "Can't wait to get out and kick some ass either, huh?"  
  
"Some field work would be a pleasurable change," Otto admitted. Another advantage of seeing through the tentacles was that light was not an issue for them.  
  
The red light settled on Quinton and stayed there. He felt strange talking to the faceless thing. It was like trying to speak to a video camera. Otto seemed to be in a generally good mood, so Quinton decided to return to an earlier issue. "We never got the chance to continue our conversation from last night."  
  
"You're right." There was a pause. "Well?"  
  
Quinton had been hoping Otto would speak of his own accord, but it appeared he was going to have to dig. "How did that puddle get there?"  
  
"My visitor must of tracked it in from outside." He observed Quinton's posture change as is attention perked up. Otto snickered to himself.  
  
"Who was it?"  
  
His voice remained flat and unfeeling. "A totally hot babe. We had totally kinky sex until the odd hours of the morning." He observed Quinton's posture fall a little and had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing out loud.  
  
Nothing but sarcasm. "Otto..." Quinton started then sighed and put his hand to what would have been his forehead if the bubble hadn't been there. It was an 'I don't give a shit anymore' gesture. "You know what? Just forget it."  
  
"Tis forgotten." There were 1.3 seconds of silence before Otto burst out laughing.  
  
It was a purely insane laugh with an undertone of desperation and despair. Quinton favored his teammate with a concerned and disconcerted look. _That man has one fucked up sense of humor sometimes._ Not another word bridged the gap between them as they descended the stairs and made their way down a hallway they rarely bothered to travel. Quinton didn't mind the silence, he was perfectly content to remain in his own little bubble. He hoped it was something that involved sneaking. He loved sneaking. Perhaps Fisk was planning a robbery? Quinton followed that new thread of thought, allowing it to lead him to wonder who had robbed the bank. It had been in the paper this morning. His eyes turned suspiciously to Otto's back. Had he pulled a solo on them without sharing the profits? If that were the case Fisk wouldn't be too thrilled, not with the way Otto had been bucking his authority lately. As much as he disliked Otto, however, he didn't hate him enough to turn him over without some hard evidence. His reverie was shattered by shouts and laughter. Max zipped by, almost toppling the silent muser. Mac was close behind, bouncing back and forth from wall to wall, occasionally skittering along one in the manner of his namesake. He saw Otto put up a tentacle to shield himself from the swishing tail as the green blur leaped across in front of him. Instead of scowling, the man actually smiled and rose up on his tentacles to join the race.  
  
Max looked behind him and caught sight of Otto and Mac gaining on him. He doubled his speed and pulled ahead, cackling. The door opened and Max pulled up short, landing about a foot away from Wilson Fisk. The others also immediately grew serious.  
  
Fisk had come out to investigate the ruckus and had almost been run down by Electro. "Having fun?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Max replied, sheepishly.  
  
"You shouldn't exhaust yourselves so early in the evening." Fisk turned back through the door and took his place at the head of the table, placing his hands on either side of the manila folder in front of him. The four super villains filed in quietly and took their own places. Scorpion and Dr. Octopus had special chairs. When everyone was settled Fisk opened the folder and passed around a picture. "That is Larry Underwood. He is your target."  
  
"Looks pretty harmless tah me," Mac commented as he studied the picture. The bespectacled man was young, a little pudgy, with a desperation hidden in his brown eyes. "Wha'd'yah wan' with 'im?"  
  
"This man's whole life up until this point is in this folder." Fisk closed the folder and waved it. "Social security number, birth certificate, doctor visits, right down to grocery receipts." He slid the folder to them and they leaned over so they could all rifle through it at once. Accept for Otto, who sent in a tentacle to observe. "I would like you all to observe the credit card bills and bank statements. He was never able to pay off his student loan, he's behind in his mortgage payments, et cetera. He has been in debt since graduation, and has only sunk lower since then."  
  
Otto removed a paper from the folder and skimmed it. The man was married, with a child. The wheels in his head began turning, plotting his own scheme.  
  
"Naturally he only came to me only as a last resort. He was turning to drug dealing, and, given how pressed he was for time, wanted to break into the big leagues as soon as possible. I gave him names and a little seed money. He promised to pay me back and give me thirty percent of his profits. When I sent my men to collect, he wouldn't pay up the thirty percent."  
  
"So what? Yah wan' us tah break this guy's legs as a warnin or somethin?"  
  
"That's goon stuff," Quinton grumbled because Otto didn't seem to be in possession of any intent to say it himself.  
  
"I wasn't aware you felt that way," Fisk's voice was ominously calm. "What about the rest of you? Do you feel this is below you?"  
  
"Actually, I'm really looking forward to it," Otto replied.  
  
"Good, because I didn't break you all out of prison so you could sit around my house playing video games and flirting with my house maids. Either earn your keep, or go back where you came from." He took the silence that followed as a sign of acquiescence. The large man settled back in his chair smiling pleasantly. "Besides, you may find this exercise a little more entertaining than you expect. Bring him to me alive, preferably unharmed. However, I will excuse 'necessary force.'"  
  
Quinton grinned, all of them did. Fisk wasn't going to suck all the fun out of the event.  
  
[FATR: Yay! Cliff hanger! You give me review now! I'm sorry if anyone is annoyed that I keep using "Fisk" but I just can't call Kingpin "Wilson" and take him seriously. Try reading the chapter and insert "Wilson" instead of "Fisk." You may see my point, and perhaps it will help you kill some free time, yes? Go out there and murder a few helpless, roaming minutes! blinks Any cell phone related pun was so not intended.] 


	8. On the Job

[FATR: I had so much fun writing this chapter! I hope you have as much fun reading it. I don't own Batman. I don't own anything accept the Underwoods, really. Let's have three cheers for mass destruction before we continue on our way! /cheers, cheers, cheers/ ]

That evening was just like any other for the Underwood family. Larry and his son Jacob were playing with Batman action figures in the livingroom. Larry was Mr. Freeze and Jacob was, of course, Batman. Why the young boy seemed to prefer Batman to Spider-Man was a mystery to Larry.  
  
Jessica, his wife, was in the kitchen washing the dinner plates when she received the inkling that something was going to happen. She had known of her husband's troubles for some time now. She was aware that Kingpin's men had visited the day before, but _their_ coming had gone unheralded. This was different. Jessica put the last dish in the drying rack and proceeded calmly to the living room. "Larry, dear, can you help me put the dishes away?"  
  
"Sure." Larry stood up and followed his wife into the kitchen.  
  
"He's sending more people," she whispered. "But it's worse this time."  
  
"Worse?" Larry's eyes widened. "Worse how?"  
  
"I don't know, but we have to get out of here."  
  
"He'll just track us down. You take Jacob and go, I'll stay here and... explain, or something."  
  
"That won't work."  
  
"I made my grave, I'll lie in it."  
  
Jessica stomped her foot and hissed, "Goddammit, don't try to be heroic. We're out of it now. We can leave all of this behind us if-"  
  
"We can't run forever. I'll take care of it. You just watch out for yourself and Jacob."  
  
"They can't hurt me as easily as they could hurt you. If anyone of us is going to stay and straighten things out, it will be me."  
  
"It's not you they want."  
  
"We don't have time to debate this! They'll be here any moment!"  
  
:o) (o:  
  
The obsidian van glided down the street, perfectly camouflaged by the deep shadows. The neighborhood was shit, but that was to be expected based on the information in the folder. Quinton strained his eyes to see the street numbers. "We're almost there."  
  
_The woman knows we're coming._ Otto was in the very back where his arms had all the room they needed. Well, almost all the room they needed. Mac glared at one of them and swatted it with his tail. The tentacle hissed and snapped for Mac's face. "Relax, my pets. The fun will begin shortly."  
  
Quinton decided to cloak the van. The street was desolate and there was no danger of any other cars running into them. He kept his ears and eyes peeled anyway.  
  
"Oo! Oo!" Max jumped up and leaned between the front seats. "Squirrel! Squirrel!"  
  
"Would you si-" Quinton stopped as control of the car was wrenched from him. The squirrel never saw it coming. The passengers hardly felt anything. There was a little furry rodent, and then there was a little furry puddle. Control returned to Quinton and Max sat back, looking quite pleased with himself.  
  
"Still the master," Max beamed. The smile was knocked off his face as a green tail and a silver arm simultaneously connected with the back of his head.  
  
"Focus yah dumbass," Mac growled.  
  
Otto wondered what to do about the wife, Jessica. She wasn't a Nasarian, but there was something about her that drew him in. He still had his doubts that 'magick' actually worked. He'd yet to see it with his own two eyes. Her healing powers, however astounding they were, had turned out to be the result of something biological. The van door slid open and he stepped out. _Perhaps I can call that little pearl the Magick Gene._  
  
Max knocked on the door. "Little pigs, little pigs, let us come in!" There was no answer.  
  
"No' by the hair on yah chinny chin chin?" Mac called, starting to feel Max's giddy energy. "Then we'll huff, and we'll puff, and-"  
  
Otto's tentacles whipped forwards, tired of waiting. "Bust your door in," Otto finished, stepping through the gap. He surveyed the room. The lights were off, and their target was sitting in a chair with his back to the door.  
  
The loud crash had sent him into a spasm of shivers. He fought to control them before he spoke. "I knew you would come eventually." Larry struggled to keep his voice level. "Maybe we could all sit down and talk. You see, I had the-"  
  
"We were not sent to talk." Quinton almost laughed. Was this guy kidding? "Come quietly and we won't hurt you... much."  
  
Larry sighed, fondling the gun in his lap. "I'm sorry you feel that way." He leaped up, spun around, and pulled the trigger, intending merely to frighten the visitors. It was Larry, however, who received the fright. As for the bullet, it was barely a task for the tentacles to deflect it.  
  
"Offensive action on his part merits offensive action of an equal or greater force on our part." Otto glowered at Larry. His pets rose behind him, making sounds like angry rattle snakes.  
  
"Leave i' tah me." Mac sprang into the air. The gun fired again but Mac dodged and continued across the ceiling at arachnoid speed. The tail struck down, causing Larry to drop the gun, but also completely removing the his hand. For a moment Larry seemed too paralyzed by shock to do anything but stand there.  
  
"Shocking, isn't it?" Max cackled. Electricity arched out of his body in every direction, obliterating just about all the appliances and lights in the house. This seemed to shake Larry out of his daze because he screamed and hightailed it for the kitchen, clutching his arm to his chest.  
  
Otto, however, did not care for this little man. Before everything had exploded, there had been a burst of light and sound. Just under all this noise he had perceived a duet of shrieks upstairs. He knew it was the woman and the child, even though the noise had died with the explosion. While the others were distracted with Larry, Otto grabbed the upstairs railing with his tentacles and hoisted himself up. They lowered his feet soundlessly to the carpet and he moved down the hall. He knew what room they were in and made straight for it, fighting the temptation of some pointless vandalism. There would be time for that. Maybe, if Mac hadn't fucked it up by cutting off that guy's hand. Though Otto had to admit he had enjoyed watching that display. There was light under the door. _I thought Max blew all of the power._ Otto placed his hand on the knob, turned, and pushed.  
  
:o) (o:  
  
Larry glanced behind him as the swinging door swished shut. As he turned back around, the man he knew as Mysterio materialized out of a puff of smoke. Larry ran into him and fell backwards on the debris littered floor. The helmet cast an eerie glow over the entire kitchen, bright enough for one to see the damage but not quite bright enough to illuminate the dark corners. In fact, it only served to twist and distort the already distorted shadows even more.  
  
:o) (o:  
  
Otto's eyes grew wide at what was behind the door. The woman was sitting in a circle of white candles, clutching the boy to her chest. Her eye were closed and she was muttering something rapidly under her breath. The boy's face was buried in her chest so he hadn't noticed the unnatural octopus in the doorway, either. The pair was surrounded by a column of undulating blue light that stretched from floor to ceiling. It looked a lot like water. The expression of wonder melted into one of hunger. It was real, and he would take it, and make it his.  
  
Jessica could feel eyes upon her. She gasped and gazed up at the figure in the doorway, trembling. The blue light reflected in his glasses, the glowing circles the only thing she could see under the brim of his hat. There was a sick smile on his face, almost a leer. For a second she thought he was planning to rape her.  
  
"I have no desire for such carnal pleasures," Otto half assured, half scoffed. He stepped into the room, reaching out with his bionic arms.  
  
Jessica sat frozen as the red eyes stretched towards her, only inches from her shield. Her heart thundered and her breath quickened. Throwing up one hand she wildly exclaimed, "In the name of the water goddess, you shall not pass!" The metal snakes whipped back, hissing, as the column flashed brightly. The man looked taken aback then amused.  
  
"I am the water goddess," the same voice that had visited Max giggled, only this time it came out of Otto.  
  
Jessica cowered before him as a dark cloud grew behind him. The blue light faded, the room with it, and it was just them. Them and the dark. "What... Ana?" The man's face became very calm. One black gloved hand came up and slid off the glasses.  
  
:o) (o:  
  
Quinton could see himself in his glasses. The white light reflected in the tear tracks on Larry's face. The super villain, empowered by this, loomed threateningly. "Going somewhere?"  
  
"I-I..." Larry stammered, shielding his eyes with his remaining hand as he tried to see the man's face through the bubble. "Th-the gun was a... s-sorry, I w-was just..."  
  
"Scared." Max sauntered into the kitchen, followed by Mac. Larry was now surrounded. "As well you should be."  
  
Larry winced as he noticed Mac's tail was still dripping his blood. "I'll... I'll go calmly, but I need... medical attention..."  
  
"'M sure doc would take a look a' tha' for yah," Mac teased. None of them, however, were by any means ready to pack up and go home.  
  
:o) (o:  
  
The golden eyes seemed to glow yellow in the shadow of his hat. He snarled and the manmade monsters whipped forward.  
  
:o) (o:  
  
A puzzled look wrinkled Larry's brow. There had been four, hadn't there? Where was Dr. Octopus?  
  
Boom! wrplwrplwrpl...  
  
SCREEEE...  
  
"Ah!"  
  
WhmphShhhhhhhhhh...  
  
:o) (o:  
  
There was a sound like a sonic boom and the wall rippled at their initial impact, the sound echoing. As the claws tore into the bubble they screeched as if experiencing some kind of feed back. Jacob screamed. The wall burst in a shower and soaked the entire room. The candles fizzled out and they were plunged into darkness.  
  
:o) (o:  
  
Everyone in the kitchen looked up in unison. "Jessica... Jacob..." Larry murmured and leaped to his feet. Electro barely poked him with his index finger but it was enough to throw the man backwards against Mysterio. Mysterio caught him, levitated him, and threw him towards the kitchen door. Scorpion opened the kitchen door just in time and Larry landed essentially unharmed on the couch. Unharmed except for the excessive blood loss. Dimly he could see Electro leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.  
  
"That's gone on just about long enough," Max commented to Mac in the kitchen behind him, indicating the blood still gushing from Larry's wrist.  
  
Quinton levitated Max out of the way and came out of the kitchen with an armload of dish rags. He tied one as tight as possible around Larry's upper arm to form a temporary tourniquet. He threw the rest at Larry with half hearted instructions to keep pressure on the wound. "After all, if you die, Kingpin will have our hides." There was a loud crash upstairs.  
  
:o) (o:  
  
Otto was dragging Jessica down the hall by her hair and Jacob by the scruff of his neck. Both mother and child were dripping and shivering. The tentacles shot out in four different directions, indiscriminately grasping whatever they found first, and pulled. Shelves, furniture, an entire wall, were instantly decimated. The meditation exercises had worked better than he could have dreamed. "They grow up so fast, don't they, dear?"  
  
He sounded exactly like a proud father watching his son's football game. Jessica would have laughed but the situation was far from amusing.  
  
The tentacles went out again but one paused and returned clutching a book gently in its 'jaws.' The others, on a silent cue from their brother, went to investigate.  
  
"I see," Otto responded to some unknown statement made by the discoverer. "But why would she have books on that subject?" Jessica grew pale as the black holes that were his eyes turned on her. "You're not just some little wiccan, are you?"  
  
The other tentacles returned but only one had a book. It did, however, take two of them to stabilize it as it was too thick for one to get its pincers properly around.  
  
Otto smiled without showing his teeth, an expression laced with sarcastic amicability. He let the woman go and gave her a light shove towards the stairs. "Get a move on." Cradling the books in one arm, his other hand still occupied with the boy, he plunged the tentacles into both walls at the end of the hallway and dragged them forwards, crunching through plaster and wall supports.  
  
The woman's flight down the stairs was accompanied by all kinds of noise as half of the second floor caved in. Otto descended the stairs calmly, with the kicking, screaming boy under one arm and the books under the other. The super villains on the first floor had apparently used the waiting time to decimate the livingroom.  
  
Jessica screamed when she saw Larry and flew to his side. He gazed blankly at her, eyes glazed, barely conscious. Just before she reached him, a claw clamped around her waist and plucked her into the air. "Let me go, bastard! I have to help him! He needs a doctor!"  
  
"I'm a doctor." At Otto's words she began beating on the thing constricting her waist with all her might. He only tightened it. Otto surveyed the others. Max was kneeling over the action figures on the floor, but he was looking at Otto, waiting for direction. "She is right, though. Let's get him back."  
  
Max scooped up the action figures, practically the only things in the house not vandalized in some way, and followed the others out to the car. Quinton and Mac were carrying/dragging the injured man. There were police sirens in the distance and Max thanked their lucky stars for Quinton's powers. They all piled into the van, Mac up front this time, and literally faded away into the night, with the half dead man sprawled across the back seat. The only sounds in the van were Jacob's sniffles and the little clicking noise of the action figures as Max made them fight.  
  
:o) (o:  
  
Unbeknownst to them and the approaching police cars, as soon as the van had disappeared a solitary white figure had drifted into the wreckage of the house. She wore an ankle length white, silk dress with sleeves down to her wrists and collar half way up her neck. Her hair was so blond it was almost white, and the figure under the dress was nothing to gawk at, but still pretty. Her real beauty radiated from her silvery eyes. She wore no adornments in her hair or on her ears, only a delicate silver chain with a simple silver pentacle dangling from it.  
  
Emma's steps were so soft it was as if she weren't there at all. Perhaps she wasn't, really. Standing in the livingroom she winced to see the blood and mindless destruction that was often in her sister's wake. She didn't need to go upstairs to know that Otto had taken Jessica's books. Emma glided to the stairs and gazed up into the ravenous gloom at the top. The darkness and rubble yielded nothing, but this was where her sister had last revealed herself. "Ana?" She called fearlessly into the gloom. "Here I am. You can kill me if you must, but don't bring in more innocents." There was no answer. There wasn't ever going to be an answer.

[FATR: Wee! Fun, yah? BTW, if anyone knows the name of the ghost lady from , I would like to know it for profile related reasons. Damn hurricane Frances, ruining my labor day weekend. I had plans and everything. All well, if it doesn't do anything too serious to the power I can use the time to work on this story.]


	9. Ride Home

[FATR: Thank yah much, Agent Silver. The chapter after this one will be better, I promise. This is just an odd idea I had. It kind of sucks, and unless a lot of people tell me to keep it, I will replace it when I finish writing a real chapter. On the other hand, it is a free target for some flame work, yeah? Hurricane Frances just has my brain a little scattered. Two days without power will do that to you. My power is now back on, and I feel I must celebrate by writing all the emails I intended to write, reading all the stories I wanted to read (glad agent silver did the twin towers fic), and updating my story/profile (I finally own Feardotcom on DVD). Fresh start. Ahh! I have several new stories in the works. If I decide to post "Temptation of Otto" in chapters, you may see it soon. The others, "Heros are Made" and the unnamed one, may not appear until this one is finished. In fact, they are written down but not typed. At any rate, on with the madness! Let's see... I do not own the plot for the movie Batman and Robin, et cetera, et cetera...]  
  
Otto had his elbow resting on the window, is chin in his hand, and his eyes glued to the passing scenery. The books were in his lap tucked protectively under his coat. Though he was straining to ignore it, Max's mental dialog with the toys was slowly driving him insane.  
  
Jacob clung to his mother and stared steadily at the back of Electro's head. He knew of the four bad guys the way a child knows things. It was mostly through his friends at school. He'd seen so many similar things in cartoons, but in cartoons nobody got as seriously hurt as his daddy had. In cartoons the bad guys weren't this scary or this mean. He never would have expected one to play with toys, either. He wanted to see what Electro was doing. In fact, his curiosity was beginning to override his initial fear. After all, it was Dr. Octopus who had handled his mommy and him so viciously, and Scorpion who had hurt his daddy (the scythe was still red). Jacob leaned forward a bit, trying to peer around Electro's shoulder.  
  
"Haha! Die you wing-ed rodent!" Max exclaimed in his Mr. Freeze voice as Batman tumbled to the floor. Now a mental version of Robin's voice, _Gee wiz, Batman! Who will help me now?_ Poison Ivy, _I'll save you, big boy._ Robin, _No, you want to kill me!_ Poison Ivy, _Oh, you're quite the clever one._ More clicking as they fought.  
  
Otto finally snapped. A tentacle lashed out and knocked Robin out of Max's hand. "There, they're both dead. Now, for godsakes, please knock it off."  
  
Max pouted a little inwardly as he leaned over to collect the action figures. _Where'd Batman go?_ Looking behind him, he discovered the kid had it. His expression brightened. "You wanna play?" Jacob felt his mother gently tug back on him. He looked up at her, questioning. The look she sent him meant 'no.' "I'm not s'posed to talk to strangers," Jacob explained.  
  
"Well, if we introduce ourselves, we won't be strangers, will we?"  
  
Jacob couldn't really fault that logic. "I guess not," he answered reluctantly.  
  
Max extended his hand. "Maxwell Dillon." The kid eyed him suspiciously.  
  
He had a real name? Like a real person? Jacob grinned and reached for the outstretched hand.  
  
"Jacob!" His mother gasped in horror and grabbed him to pull him back just as the yellow gloved hand engulfed the smaller hand. Nothing happened. Everyone except Mysterio and Larry turned to stare at her. Jacob looked alarmed and Electro had this indignant 'what?' look on his face. Jessica shrank back to her original position but kept a wary eye on Electro and Jacob. Scorpion and Dr. Octopus had dismissed the entire affair as soon as they found out what was going on.  
  
"Jacob," Max repeated, grinning. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Who would you like to be?"  
  
"I like..." Jacob hesitated, not wanting to offend is volatile new friend. "Um..."  
  
"The super heros?" Max chuckled and handed over Robin. "Don't they all?" The kid gave him a shy look and shrugged. "What are Mr. Freeze and Poison Ivy planning to do?"  
  
"Mr. Freeze is mad and he wants to... to freeze the whole city of Gotham with his giant freeze gun."  
  
"Okay. Why is Mr. Freeze mad?"  
  
"'Cause he thinks Batman killeded his wife, but it was, um, really Poison Ivy."  
  
No one noticed Otto flinch at Jacob's words.  
  
Max in his Freeze voice, "You killed my wife, you wing-ed freak. Prepare to cower before the might of my ice gun of doom."  
  
"I didn't do it," Jacob said in a deep, Batman voice. "It was Poison Ivy."  
  
"Do not try to distract me with your lies. I will freeze you and all of Gothen."  
  
Jacob blinked and looked up innocently. "Gotham."  
  
Max paused. Freeze voice. "Yes, that's what I meant. Have at you!"  
  
Otto gritted his teeth as the infernal clicking began again.  
  
Max knocked Batman out of Jacob's hand and onto the floor. "Haha! Evil triumphs."  
  
Jacob's first reaction was that of a little boy who has lost a game that he feels was unfair. "You can't do that! The good guys always win!" Then his eyes grew wide and his hand clamped over his mouth. The other hand sought out his mother's hand.  
  
Otto chuckled as a tentacle observed the boy growing three shades paler.  
  
After a brief pause that must have seemed like an eternity to the boy Max asked, not without a touch of malice, "Where the hell did you get a stupid idea like that?"  
  
Jacob wished the seat would open up and swallow him. He tried to speak but discovered his mouth had gone dry. "U-um... the c-cartoons..."  
  
"Wha'da'yah know," Mac piped up from the passenger seat. "TV really does rot'cha brain."  
  
"Looks like you've got a chance to learn something here, Jacob," Max's voice had lost its jocularity. "That bank today. Did whoever rob it get away with it?" The kid just stared. "Cat got your tongue? I asked you a question." The kid just nodded, a few quick jerks. He looked shell shocked. Max didn't really care. "Ding ding ding ding! Okay, next question. Look around you." Max gestured around the car. "You think someone's going to swoop out of the sky and save your ass?"  
  
Jacob opened his mouth, reconsidered his words, and closed it. Finally he answered, "No."  
  
Max beamed, jovial once more, and tousled Jacob's hair. "I love this kid." He turned back to the two action figures still in his possession, leaving Jacob looking like someone had rubbed a balloon on his head. "Hey, we're home."  
  
"Ug, thank Nasarack," Otto grumbled as the car stopped.  
  
"What was that?" Max asked.  
  
"It was 'get out of the car and go de-charge yourself before I'm forced to resort to murder.'" Otto gave Max a playful shove towards the door.  
  
Max opened the door but stayed in the car. "Wouldn't be the first time."  
  
"Wouldn't be the last time, either," Otto joked threateningly.  
  
One of the tentacles snapped at Max and he leaped out of the van laughing. "Hey, Jacob, buddy, perhaps I'll see you around."  
  
Jacob watched him take off like a rocket. If he ever got home again he would sure have a story to tell. If... One of Dr. Octopus' cold metal claws clamped around his waist and he screamed.  
  
"I thought we went through that already," Otto sighed. Then to the others, "I'm going downstairs. I do not want to be bothered by anyone unless it's Fisk. Do you understand?" Otto stalked back towards the house as the other two called someone to help them with Larry, who had long since passed out.  
  
[FATR: Yes, the product of my thinking too much. As I said before, this is the place for blatantly honest opinions. Hell, make suggestions or whatever in regard to the entire story, if you like. Any plot input? I'm open. Peace out, love muffins, and never, ever, take electricity for granted.] 


	10. Investigate

FATR: Well, ch 9 didn't get any flames so I'll leave it up. OMG! I just got Spiderman vs Doc Ock on DVD. The last episode on it was SO precious! It had Mac in it, and he was holding Adrian (Vulture) captive (shackled to the wall, heehee) in this dingy little apartment because he was the only one who knew how to reverse his mutation. Mac was trying to raise enough money to build a lab, but he didn't want to steal it because he was trying to go straight. You know why? He had a girlfriend! Yes, a girlfriend, and they were planning on getting married! Isn't that the most adorable thing in the world? And she was trying to save him from Silvermane and then he saved her before the building blew up! And then she had this cheesy line about how their love could get them through anything. Hm...but it was so cute! If you ever get the chance, you should watch Partners in Danger Chapter 3. Some supervillains aren't really evil, just unfortunate. Anyway, it just thrilled me so much. I had to share it. Just seeing them together was so.../squeek!/ ANY-hoo, Everything about the Nasarians is mine. I believe the only thing I don't own in this chapter is Darwin's theory of evolution, and I think we by now I don't own ANY Spider-Man related situations or characters. None, zippo, zilch, nada. Read this while I go cry.

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Emma's face was illuminated by the light of the computer screen. She wore a robe that could have been made of white summer clouds. The sound of the TV drifted in from the other room. The eleven o'clock news wasn't on yet, but she wanted to hear it when it did come on. She truly feared for the whole family, but she prayed to Nasarack that the blood had not belonged to Jessica. There were so few half breeds left as it was. However, it was unlikely that Ana would go through all that trouble just to take out a half breed.  
  
George Richmond had been the jewel collector's name. He collected all kinds of rare gems but took particular pride in his collection of stones and amulets that were related the occult. The four missing gems were part of a set of five. Individually the stones were harmless, but collectively they were known as 'Clastrum abscindet Portam,' roughly translated as 'The key that opens the Gate.' _I have to get to that last jewel first, but where is it? George might know._  
  
"Mrrrrrrow."  
  
Emma smiled at the little splotchy cat. It wasn't any discernable breed. Its coat resembled a paint explosion of browns, blacks, grays and white. One eye was yellow and one blue, the ears were unusually large, and the tail unusually long. Emma had found him in a dumpster as a kitten when she first moved to New York. "Is that so? I'll be right there, Picasso." The cat ran into the livingroom. Emma added the website to the 'Favorites' list and curled up with her little friend to watch the news.  
  
----  
  
The doors clanged shut behind Otto and his captives. They were in his world now and it was finally safe to relieve the tentacles of their burdens. It felt good to finally be able to get back to work. It was just about all he could think about when he had been in the car with nothing to do but think. He left the pair where they were keeping one of the four eyes on them in case of trouble. Giving up the full mind link to the tentacles so he could fully concentrate on what he was doing, he selected one of the tubes of blood and read the name 'Quinton Beck.' The top right tentacle returned carrying one of the test tubes he kept chilled in a hidden safe. Not even Fisk knew it was there. This tube was simple labeled 'Ana.' Using two separate droppers so as not contaminate either sample he placed a drop of each together in a petri dish. He placed it under a microscope and the image showed up on one of the smaller computer screens (he hadn't fixed the main computer yet).  
  
Jessica watched the screen curiously.  
  
The outcome was just as he suspected. The agent in Ana's blood attacked and took over, killing everything that had been Quinton. The bottom right arm filed away the time it took in its memory bank for later recall and the process was repeated two more times with Quinton's blood. He moved on to Max's with the same results, but it only took about half the time. What was it in Quinton's blood that slowed it down? He'd made a mental note to track that line later and his pets stored it in their memory with the times. It was very handy, like having a computer strapped to his back and plugged into his brain. _Okay, so technically I do have a computer strapped to my back and plugged into my brain._ Their capacity had limits, like any computer, but it saved time not having to take notes by hand. Next test tube in line, 'Mac Gargan.'  
  
The stress had finally gotten to Jacob and he now lay sleeping in his mother's lap on the floor. With nothing else to do, Jessica watched Dr. Octopus work. She had no idea what exactly he was doing, or what he intended to do with her and her son. Maybe Ana had told him about half breeds. Maybe he was going to slice her open and poke around. Though she'd still rather face his plans than any plans of Ana's design.  
  
Otto waited as the two immune systems warred. He had forgotten all about his captives for the time being. The seconds ticked by and became minutes before it became clear that Mac's system was the one taking over. Another trail that could be traced farther. One left now, Stephanie's. He knew about her little fantasies, but like her he doubted she'd make very good super villain. Another benefit of the meditation exercises, the minds of others were now open books for him to read at his leisure. He had expected something similar to Max's results, perhaps maybe even faster, but no. As soon as the samples came into contact with each other they came apart and began reconstructing themselves into something almost entirely different. Previously he hadn't been sure what it was he had wanted to accomplish with this. He had been driven by pure curiosity, but if he had been hoping to discover anything, this was it.  
  
The three unoccupied tentacles grew very excited. **_Give Stephanie a transfusion, see what this means._**  
  
"It's too dangerous. I should... I should do some more research. It could physically mutate her somehow."  
  
Jessica looked around, wondering who he was talking to.  
  
**_It's what she wants, isn't it?_**  
  
"It might hurt her."  
  
**_Sometimes sacrifices must be made in the name of science. Besides, we thought you didn't like her._**  
  
"I may not be interested in her romantically, but that doesn't mean-"  
  
"Who are you talking to?" Jessica finally ventured, wondering if Ana was around somewhere. When he turned around he looked surprised to see her.  
  
"Do not fear, Mrs. Underwood. I'm merely conferring with my pets." As if to emphasize this statement the upper left creature nuzzled his cheek.  
  
"They... they talk to you?"  
  
"Why wouldn't they?"Otto answered as though the very idea that they wouldn't talk to him was pure madness.  
  
Jessica took this in slowly. He had made them and he obviously knew more about them than she did, so she accepted it. It didn't have anything to do with her real question anyway.  
  
"Your presence his required purely for conversational purposes, though that could change. Where have my manners gone? I suppose you would like a chair or something of the sort."  
  
----  
  
Emma felt a stab of guilt for encouraging Peter to take twenty-four hours off, but he was only a mortal, despite his super power. He couldn't take all of this on his shoulders and stay sane. Besides, it was her job to suffer the evils of the world, her job to make sure it stayed safe. Peter Parker was just an arm of something greater than he could imagine. Not even the arm, the pinky finger. She had let this happen. Her. Emma.  
  
"...are searching the rubble. They haven't found any sign of the family yet, but they remain optimistic."  
  
Despite her generally bright nature, Emma found it hard to think positively in this situation. She only hoped Mary Jane and Peter weren't watching TV right now.  
  
Picasso sensed her negative feelings and pawed at her cheek. "Purr Purrr..."  
  
Emma smiled and scratched behind its ears. "I appreciate the effort but it's going to take more than that to cheer me up." The cat stared then hopped off the couch and ran out of the room. Emma allowed her eyes to drift back to the TV where they were interviewing the man who lived across the street. He had a thick country drawl.  
  
"...an' when I looks out I sees this guy with a glowin bubble on his 'ead git out a' it. Looked like one a' them space al-ee-ans. Boy, I'll tell yah, only in New York..." with the emphasis on the 'new' instead of the 'york.'  
  
Emma turned off the TV and laid down with her arm across her eyes. All she wanted to do now was sleep. The thundering of tiny feet pulled her out of her self-pitying stupor. Picasso was chasing a bouncy ball. He caught it his teeth and hopped on her chest to make sure he had her full attention. "You want me to throw it?" The ball fell from his mouth and rolled off her neck and under her shoulder. She fished it out and tossed it. It bounced off a wall and Picasso leaped into the air after it, catching it between his paws. He returned the ball and she bounced it a little higher this time. He swatted it out of the air and ran after it. Emma laughed, the cat's joy filling her and making her strong once again.  
  
-----  
  
As soon as Jessica sat in the chair, metal restraints secured her wrists and cut across just under her breasts. "What... what are you..." Jessica struggled. "You son-of-a-bitch, let me go!"  
  
"That kind of language is entirely unnecessary." Otto pulled a chair up across from her and sat down leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees and his wrists crossed. The lights dimmed and he removed his glasses so he could make direct eye contact. "Here's how its going to work: I will ask you some questions, and you will answer them. Does that sound difficult or frightening?"  
  
The sight of his eyes made Jessica shiver. "Well, no..."  
  
"What are you?"  
  
"I might ask you the same question, " Jessica muttered.  
  
"I like to believe myself above hurting children but..." Otto let the unfinished threat hang in the air for her to contemplate.  
  
"I... could you rephrase the question? I'm not sure I quite understand..."  
  
"Don't play dumb with me." When Jessica didn't answer he sighed. "Who is Ana to you?"  
  
Jessica took a deep breath, not quite sure if she should talk to him about this or not, but it appeared she had no choice. "It's an old myth. Nasarack the father, and Cshicomi the mother, the water god and..."  
  
"I know about Nasarack and Cshicomi. I asked you about Ana."  
  
"They had two children, Emaschire and Anaconda. As is usual in these myths, Emma was pure good, and Ana was pure evil. Their purpose, at least Emma's, had been to protect the Nasarians from the changing universe. You see, the Nasarians knew nothing of prejudice or greed. The three tribes lived together in three different regions on one island, and shared all of their resources among each other evenly."  
  
"The plains, the forests, and the mountains."  
  
"Yes. As the myth goes, the universe was changing, as I have said, and there was no longer room in the universe for such peaceful cohabitation. Ana knew this, and tried to infiltrate their lives, make them fit to stand up to the potential threats outside their world. Emma thought that Ana should use her powers to fight off the outside forces, but selfless acts just weren't within her capabilities."  
  
Otto thought about Ana and all of their 'trades.' The wounds on his chest made him aware of their presence rather painfully. "Why didn't Emma do anything about it herself?"  
  
"Emma is completely incapable of harming another living creature. The rest of the Nasarian race only kill when absolutely necessary, for food and clothing, shelter, things like that."  
  
"So only Ana and Emma feed off energy."  
  
"As the myth-"  
  
"It's not a myth. You know that as well as I do, so let's just be up front with each other, shall we? Tell me more about Ana and Emma."  
  
"Ana eventually killed her sister, but neither of them can really die. Every time Emma dies, she is reincarnated in another reality. It's always been that way, evil hunting down good and squeezing the life out of it, only to have it pop up somewhere else. Emma can't do anything accept run from her, and they've been in this cycle since time as you understand it began."  
  
"What happened to the Nasarians?"  
  
"They're just about extinct. The new universe has no place for them, so they're gradually being phased out. Most of them died, some of them evolved."  
  
"Darwin's laws know no boundaries, do they?" Otto chuckled. "Are you a Nasarian?"  
  
"I'm..." This is where Jessica had feared the conversation would go.  
  
"You're afraid I'm going to dissect you if you tell me. I suppose that's understandable, but if you don't tell me willingly I'll find out on my own."  
  
"No, I'm not."  
  
"Then you must be a half breed."  
  
"You... know..."  
  
"Ana has answered some of my questions but her price for information is a little steep..." He trailed off into his own troubled thoughts then shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "Let's back up. Nasarians come from Nasar as I understand it. What does Nasar mean?"  
  
"Nasar is a planet covered with water, with Nasaria as the only known land mass. Nasarack created us from sea foam, in pairs of two, a pair for each region. Then he made himself a partner, a woman who was all three tribes in one, and took her into the ocean with him."  
  
"Nasar means water, then," Otto cut in impatiently.  
  
"I'm sorry, I got off topic."  
  
Otto rested his elbows on the armrests, steepled his hands, and smiled. "The more information the better. That explains why Nasarian exalts the feminine. Water as the element of emotion, the feminine element. I also suppose there are no such things as male half breeds."  
  
"Ana told you that too?"  
  
"No, the characteristic is attached to the X chromosome, and it takes two of those special chromosomes to activate it in females." In reaction to her expression he added. "She told me about half breeds, and I decided to find out why there are half breeds."  
  
Jessica stared. "You really managed to break it all down to simple biology?" She snorted distastefully. "Scientists."  
  
Otto bristled, smile vanishing, and the arms raised from their relaxed positions. When he spoke there was venom in his voice. "And what does my dear mean by that?"  
  
Jessica disregarded his reaction. "You can never just leave things as they are. You always have to poke and pry until you've taken all of the miracle out of the miraculous. Don't you people know when to quit?" She took a breath. "Besides, there are some mysteries that just shouldn't be solved."  
  
The glasses were once more perched on the bridge of his nose and he rose slowly. "You have just about outlived your usefulness to me."  
  
"You really have no idea what you're tampering with," Jessica whispered. "I don't know what Ana told you, but-" The bottom tentacles lifted Otto off the ground. A claw latched over her chest and began to squeeze. Jessica heard the restraint whine as it too was compressed.  
  
"Don't you DARE talk about my personal life!" He released her and stomped to the back of the lab. The ground shook under his tentacles' impact. He landed roughly and snatched up the test tube labeled 'Ana' and a syringe. He returned and took in her apparent fear with a smug inward smile. "Now let's take a peek at just what it is I'm getting into." He filled the needle and stabbed her with it. She screamed but it was more surprise and fear than pain. _How dare she try to excavate my psyche! Who does she think she is? Nothing but another experiment, now.  
_  
_What... what was that?_ Jessica felt her arm from the puncture outwards turning to ice. The feeling spread over her body and her soul shivered. Then came nausea, churning her stomach the way a farmer's wife would churn butter. Her muscles spasmed and her stomach tossed up its contents. Otto didn't make a sound or move. There was now a numbness speeding through her system and the nausea was worsening. The next time she threw up blood came out. There was also blood beginning to seep from every orifice and pore. Jessica forced herself to take one last look at Dr. Octopus. His expression was one of pure, neutral observance. She tried to speak to him but the words would not come out of her mouth, only unintelligible sounds. At this he raised an eyebr-_... what was that__... what's the w... what..._ Her mouth hung open and blood drooled out.  
  
She could no long vocalize or come up with even the simplest of words. Through one of his four extra eyes he watched an x-ray image of her organs failing and melting as her cells were destroyed. There was a sadistic rush knowing he was causing her pain, torturing her, though he tried to force himself to see it as a purely investigational procedure. Her body dropped forwards, the restraints the only things keeping her in the chair. The whole event had taken at most two minutes and had been surprisingly silent. "That was messy." His pets all agreed and went to begin the clean up. Behind him the child was beginning to stir. Otto turned sideways to the body and turned his face towards the small form. Jacob's eyes opened.

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FATR: Sorry. I'm not very good at writing accents. BTW, Repto, it's writing this fic that's slowly turning me into a Max fangirl. I guess I am a fangirl of the Max I created in this, because the Max in the cartoon version I like is so different from the way I portray him here. I have no idea where I got this perception of him, but this story has been half writing itself, so there must be something in it somewhere.


	11. Dream?

FATR: I have more than this written but I like this better as a stand alone chapter. Besides, I've been struggling with chapter thirteen ever since I posted chapter 9. Fortunately, I try to keep well ahead of myself chapter-wise for just such an emergency. My writer's block is what led me to post Ride Home (which I originally planned to exclude because it ultimately goes nowhere) in the first place. I needed to stall. I still need to stall a little longer, but the story will pick up pace once more very soon. I hope. This intro is going to be longer than the chapter itself, so I present to you now... NEW CHIP CHIP!  
  
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The sleeper awoke. The room was too dark to discern one's whereabouts. Then, out of the darkness shone a pin point of light which grew steadily. Our subject wondered vaguely if this was the afterlife, and if that was the famous light. The impression was soon passed up for an image akin to Glenda's grand entrance in Wizard of Oz. The delicate orb grew and formed into a shining figure, draped in flowing white silk and chiffon. Snowy wings rose out of her back, folding neatly as her feet alighted. Her silver eyes shone with love, her smile with peace.  
  
"Fear me not. I come with a message..."  
  
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FATR: Well, that's it for now, but do not fret. Chapter 13 is currently at, like, six pages, so I fully intend to make it up to you. Yay! Twenty-eight reviews! Let's see if we can make thirty, or even thirty-two! Thirty-two is a nice multiple of four. I also added a brief summary for three of my four current and upcoming stories to my profile. I will improve them and add a more detailed synopsis of this one later. Look if you like but it may contain spoilers. I know Otto was pretty damn evil in the last chapter, but I had so much fun writing it! Peace out. 


	12. My Little Octopus

FATR: I must know who's profile 'chill your beans' came from! I really must! Really must! Before I post chapter 14! I tried to find it but I just can't and I must have the info. Does anyone know anything? Uh... not much to say right now. I'm not updating my profile quote because I like it too much. Okay, the first approximately six lines of dialog are taken directly from the movie. Verify it if you like but I've checked and rechecked. Ana's mine (though sometimes she likes to believe I'm hers Oo) but nothing else belongs to me. Ooh, and Shir-ran's review a while back, I think on chapter four or so, inspired me with this wonderful way to include Rosie. More will be revealed as time goes by. This chapter contains almost but no quite essentially plotless sex. Uh... chip chip time!

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The miniature pincers inside the claw plucked the marble sized sphere out of its containment cylinder. "Precious Tritium is the fuel that makes this project go. There's only twenty-five pounds of it on the whole planet. I'd like to thank Harry Osborn and Oscorp Industries for providing it."  
  
"Happy to pay the bills, Otto," Harry grinned.  
  
When released the little golden ball began to spin. Otto smiled at his Rosie lovingly but nervously and she sent a reassuring smile back. This was his moment. "Ladies and gentlemen... fasten your seatbelts." His fingers flew over the keys on the control panel. Tiny dots of light appeared at the base and tip of each tower, each accompanied by its own whining hum. The notes blended into each other in a strangely beautiful symphony. Thin beams of light shot out of the pinpoints and hit the spinning orb. It began to glow. The aura of gold light grew around it. There was a burst of light as the sound peaked and faded away. The audience gazed on in silent awe at the miniature sun burning within the containment field.  
  
One of his human assistants smiled. "Doctor, we have a successful fusion reaction."  
  
Otto grinned triumphantly at Rosie as applause erupted behind him.  
  
"We're producing a thousand megawatt surplus," his assistant continued.  
  
"The power of the sun in the palm of my hand," Otto breathed. He turned to face the throng of observers, grinning, back lit by the miniature sun. The applause faded and people began clamoring to draw his attention to their individual questions. There was only one person in the room who had Otto's attention, though. He took a few steps forward and held his hand out to Rosie, who was approaching him from the side. Their eyes met and a telepathic _'I love you'_ passed between them.  
  
As her hand reach for his she whispered, "I'm so proud of you."  
  
Peter moved into position with his camera ready to capture the two lovers in their moment of victory. Only millimeters apart, her hand so close... but it was never to be.  
  
Otto's eyes flew open and darted around the dimly lit room. A little moan escaped his lips and he once more collapsed face down on his desk. After a few moments of silence a sob escaped, and another.  
  
The tentacles stared at their owner's shaking shoulders, not quite sure what to do. It was his late wife he sobbed for, not the failure of his experiment. The top left dipped down to stroke his hair but this made him cry harder. The arm pulled back, extremely hurt by his thoughts. There was still a part of him that hated the arms. This part was a threat, but there wasn't much his pets could do about it.  
  
"What's wrong, my little octopus?"  
  
Otto hurriedly wiped his eyes and donned his glasses before turning to face the tall, raven haired vixen behind him. Her cyan eyes glowed and her hair formed a waterfall of night over her shoulders, down to almost the top of her belt. She wore a tank top decorated with a silver Chinese dragon on the front and tight leather hip huggers. All the black she wore clashed with her skin tone, an almost dead white. Her belt was black with large silver, cross shaped studs. It wasn't the Christian cross, all four lines were of equal length. Her silver belly button ring twinkled. Unlike her sister, she tended to wear more jewelry than actual clothing. She also possessed a body that could land her in a Playboy centerfold, with the shamelessness to actually do it. However, unlike her sister, she was pure evil, a little insane, and extremely sadistic. Gorgeous to gaze upon with a soul as black as the deepest pit of Hell, assuming she possessed a soul at all. The taunting way she had formed her question suggested to Otto that she might have fed him the dream on purpose. "Ana... I didn't know you were..."  
  
Her indigo painted lips spread into smile that sent shivers down his spine. "There's no need to cry," she crooned, gliding closer. "Mommy's here." Her slender fingers slithered through his curly brown hair, stopping behind his ears and removing the glasses.  
  
Otto cleared his throat. "I took some books from... Jessica. I thought maybe one of them would be the one you need." He suddenly found himself being straddled and his hands tightened their grip on the arms of the chair.  
  
Ana chuckled. "Silly boy, always thinking about books." She ran a silver talon tipped finger around his lips and cradled his face in both hands, tilting it up and leaning in to taste his breath. Her hair formed a curtain around them and her necklaces and bracelets sang sweetly.  
  
A tentacle grabbed her shoulder to stop her, sensing its master's panic.  
  
The feeling of her tongue ring in his mouth had stirred him a little despite his misgivings. Otto's mind fought for an excuse that she might accept. "I still haven't recovered from last night."  
  
"Lying doesn't suit you." Ana leaned close to his neck and took a deep breath, savoring the scent of fear. "You have no reason to fear me." She followed the salty trail of a tear up his cheek with the tip of her tongue.  
  
At this range her scent was almost overpowering. It wiped his mind clean and drew him in, almost but not quite against his will. "Rosie..." He whimpered. He felt his body was betraying him somehow by responding to her caresses.  
  
Ana slid closer on her knees until they touched the back of the chair. Her fingers laced together behind his neck, the metal digging into her flesh as she leaned back and cackled. "You weren't fighting me last night."  
  
The arms watched the scene unfold, not sure which one of their master's conflicting thoughts to act on. Top left argued that they should pulled her closer, and bottom left agreed with the impulse to be followed but wanted to sweep off the desk in one brief movement and pin her there. Bottom right wanted to remove her from this close vicinity all together and top right, though it was leaning towards its lower counterpart's conclusion, believed they should wait for a clear command.  
  
"You're on the return list, you know. The only way you can be reunited with Rosie is by jumping through my hoops." She giggled. "Besides, it's a little late to get all forever-faithful-grieving-husband-ish, isn't it?"  
  
Otto knew she was right. The malevolent side of him, the part that had demolished the Underwood home and encouraged him to kill Jessica was coaxing him into action once again. This wasn't the weepy, broken Otto Octavius, this was the deliberate and unfeeling Dr. Octopus. The arms finally received their orders. They latched around Ana's wrists and lifted her so the others could pull of her pants. She giggled again and then they were on the floor. She rolled him on his back and he winced in pain as the metal pressed into his flesh. Her lips brushed light kisses on his neck as her deft fingers unbuttoned the trench coat.  
  
Ana sat up, placed the claw of her index finger just below his throat, and reopened the long red cut. He sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth but didn't try to stop her. She could feel his energy pulsing within him. Leaning down to suck him into a feral soul kiss, she began to feed.  
  
----  
  
Larry Underwood opened his eyes only to have them flooded with bright light. The room he was in was sizable and luxurious to his eyes, but comparing it to the rest of the rooms in the mansion would have put it to shame. There were four off-white walls, some lovely oil paintings of pastel floors adorning them. White sheer curtains streamed down one wall, obscuring the garden spread out before him. Wherever this tranquil place was, he was on the ground floor. The curtains breathed some kind of familiarity but he couldn't quite remember why. As his mind resurfaced he became aware of the jungle of IV tubes. Was this some kind of hospital? Why was he... He noticed his hand, or lack thereof. He noticed a bandaged white stump. _What the hell happened?_ Frustration furrowed his brow as he tried to remember. There was a sound at the door. Larry's face met that of the elderly man.  
  
"Ah, you're awake."  
  
"Where am I?" Larry asked.  
  
"My master's abode. How do you feel?"  
  
Larry put his head in his hand as he processed the question. "Like a brick hit me," he finally answered.  
  
The old man smiled kindly. "I'll go make master aware of your waking."  
  
The door shut and Larry reclined to stare at the ceiling. _Where could I be?_ There were memories of destruction echoing through his head, loudest among them the report of a gun. A scythe, a scythe had taken his hand. It had belonged to... Scorpion. Larry's eyes widened in realization as the haze lifted. He bolted into a sitting position, experienced the effects of a head rush, and lowered himself to the pillow carefully. Worry for his wife and son descended on him then, along with a memory that could have been a dream. An angel had come to him, told him it was too late for his wife but he should grab his son and get far away from New York. Just run as far and fast as he can, incase she failed again. _Too late for my wife? Too late how? Erg, if I could, I'd..._ Larry pulled himself up slowly and turned to place his feet on the floor. Perched as such, he mindlessly started pulling IV tubes out of his arm. He had to find his family and get the hell out of that house. After he had done that he would ponder the dream, but not before. When he tried to stand his legs wouldn't hold him. That didn't matter. He was prepared to crawl if he had to. Blood ran down his arm from an IV puncture. Now he had to decide if he wanted to go through the garden door and try to find another entrance or use the door into the hall. The downside about the hall was that he was more likely to be caught, but there was no guarantee he could find another way in from outside. He began dragging himself towards the hall door. Halfway there and the door opened to reveal the large white clad figure known as Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin.  
  
"Are you sure you should be out of bed in your condition?" Fisk clapped his hands and two nurses appeared almost out of nowhere.  
  
Larry was too overwhelmed with the situation to protest has they helped him into bed and began taking care of the hastily removed IV needles. One of them pulled an armchair up beside the bed and Fisk sat down. Larry said the first thing that came to mind after his initial surprise faded away. "He cut my hand off."  
  
Fisk shrugged. "He wanted you to drop the gun. Perhaps he missed."  
  
"Sure. 'Missed.'"  
  
"You may go now," Fisk dismissed the nurses. When they were gone he got right down to business. "They delivered you here because I wish to address you on the subject of our deal."  
  
Larry winced. "I know. You see the thing about that is... I had the money, enough to pay the loans from you and the bank, but not enough to give you your thirty percent."  
  
"Mr. Underwood, I am a business man. I make investments, and expect to make money off of those investments."  
  
Larry thought about his family and bit his lip. "I don't have it anymore. What am I..." Uncomfortable silence. "Are you going to... kill me?"  
  
"I have nothing to gain from taking your life."  
  
"Look, can I at least see my family? So I can know that they're okay?"  
  
"Your family?"  
  
Fisk seemed honestly puzzled. "Doc Ock took them. Please don't hurt them, they... they're innocent," Larry begged, throwing any pride he may have had to the wind.  
  
"I was not aware of this," Fisk explained.

----  
  
Nathan made his way down the hall, cursing his luck. _Why does Fisk always have to choose me to interact with the super villains? That Stephanie chick actually likes doing it. She should be made official embassador or something._ He stopped at the top of the winding metal stairwell and stared into the gloom, half expecting a hooked chain to fly out of the darkness and drag him down. His footsteps echoed strangely as he descended. A few steps away from the bottom he heard a muffled scream. He froze. Silence. It would have had to have been pretty loud for it to drift through the essentially sound proof door. Almost unknown to him his feet guided him down the last of the stairs and across the floor. A trembling hand lifted to the luminous green key pad and pressed the intercom button. "Um...Dr. Octavius?"

----  
  
Otto lifted himself off of Ana feeling completely drained. Sweat plastered his brown locks to his forehead. The brace didn't even bother him as he flopped onto his back with his eyes closed, gasping for oxygen. Two of his arms whined as he landed on top of them but that also went unnoticed. He felt Ana's naked body against his as she rolled over to put her arm around him. "I forgot to ask. Have you tracked down the Spirit Stone yet?" She whispered in his ear.  
Otto shook his head wearily, eyes still closed. He felt her tongue running over the cuts again but still couldn't find the energy to open his eyes. It was taking all of his concentration to keep breathing. Suddenly a voice cut through his head like a knife.  
  
"Um... Dr. Octavius?"  
  
His eyes snapped open. Ana was gone and he felt very cold all of a sudden. He scrambled for his trench coat while his arms sought out the rest of his clothing. He paused and stared at his chest, running a hand over the now unblemished skin. There was a beat before he smiled. She never performed selfless acts, but she did a number of things for a price. Otto sometimes had his doubts that she truly intended to reunite him with Rosie, or at least he used to. But he was being a good little octopus for Ana, wasn't he? He would open the gate for her and she would bring his Rosie back to him, and there would be no more nightmare, no more sadness. It had never occurred to him that Rosie might reject what he had become, or if it had tried he hadn't let it.  
  
"Dr. Octavius," the voice repeated.  
  
Fortunately the tentacles, no matter how tired their creator became, never wore out. They propped him up as he finished dressing, walked him to the door, and pressed the intercom button. He took a breath. "Yes?"  
  
"You need to come with me," Nathan explained.  
  
His pets bristled at the tone in the man's voice but Otto was far from in the mood to fight anybody on anything. He commanded one of them to punch in the code and it grudgingly obeyed.  
The doors slid open and Nathan took in Otto in a state of mild shock. He hung from the four arms like a rag doll in a child's hands. He hadn't bothered to button his coat and his clothes, usually meticulously ironed and cared for, had a rumpled look about them. When his head tilted up his tousled hair fell into his face, hiding his eyes but not hiding the fact that he hadn't bothered with the glasses yet. Nathan wished he had. He expected Otto to fight him, or ask him what was going on, but he only waited in perfect silence. Nathan turned uncomfortably and led the way upstairs.  
  
----  
  
The door to Larry's room opened and Nathan directed Otto inside. Otto looked even worse in the light of day. His skin was tinted a nasty grey-ish color and the scar from his throat to his harness was now clearly visible. It seemed as though gravity's force on him had doubled and tripled. The glossy black circles over his eyes contrasted sharply with his complexion, giving him a eyeless corpse-ish look. The arms shortened until his feet touched the floor but they were still clearly standing for him. Larry felt a tinge of pity looking at this ragged creature and opted instead to study a floral painting on the wall behind him.  
  
When Otto spoke his voice sounded as though it came from hole that was miles deep. "You called, master Fisk?"  
  
Even Fisk was caught off guard by Otto's appearance but unlike Larry he could maintain his resolve. "I hear you have Jessica and Jacob."  
  
Otto stared blankly at the brown tinted world he always saw and always would see then nodded slowly.  
  
"Are they in your lab?" Fisk's question was answered by another slow nod. "And?"  
  
"The boy has been sedated. The woman died." There was no emotion in Otto's voice. No regret, but no pride either. Emotion took too much energy.  
  
"You... she..." Larry sputtered, infuriated and anguished at the same time. "How could..."  
  
If Otto had been in the same mood he had been in when he originally awoke, he would have been able to empathize with Larry's plight, but as it was he, thankfully, could not feel a thing. Under the circumstances all he could do was keep his eyes on Fisk and wait for his reaction. Fisk seemed to be thinking.  
  
"Did she have life insurance?" Fisk finally asked Larry.  
  
"Yes..." Larry was mildly uncomfortable with the direction this seemed to be going.  
  
"How much?"  
  
Larry stared. "You can't mean..."  
  
Fisk turned his attention to the disheveled octopus. "Not that I condone your actions. Understand that you are free to work on your own agenda, but I would like to know about it first. Do you understand, Dr. Octopus?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Otto managed to force out with some semblance of respect in his tone. He wasn't allowed to leave yet, so he sort of sat back on the tentacles and bided his time until his attention was needed again.  
  
"We will get all of the money business squared away," Fisk was explaining to a teary-eyed Larry, "then you can have your son."  
  
Larry's dream resurfaced and he swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'll go along with it, but afterwards I'm leaving town and never coming back. I only hope you let me go peacefully, because nothing is going to keep me or my son here." He felt eyes on him and peeked at Dr. Octopus out of the corner of his eye. The man's head was down but he could have still been looking at Larry.  
  
"If you indeed hold up your end of our bargain, I will have no other reason to keep you here."

_An angel came to you in a dream and told you to leave town?_ Otto chuckled a little at Larry's thoughts. So Ana had originally come here seeking her sister. Even with a half breed for a wife he knew next to nothing about Nasarians, at least not enough to know the daughters on sight. Or perhaps Nasarians and half breeds alike laid low, afraid of Ana. There had to be a damn good reason for these people to fear her. It made him wonder if he should rethink his plans, but before he had the chance to follow that train of thought, Fisk interrupted him.  
  
"Go down stairs and bring up Jacob," Fisk commanded.  
  
Otto rose to his tentacles without any other indication he had heard. He couldn't afford to dwell on such thoughts, not when he was so deep in this business already. Hm, if Emma knew of his plan, he'd better make sure he located the Spirit Stone before she did. He couldn't explain this little agenda to Fisk. It was far too secret. Perhaps, depending on the location of the gem, he could mask the event as a general robbery and bring the others along. Ana had found the other four elements in a safe at the bank. Maybe the circumstances surrounding the other stone would be similar.

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FATR: Six page chip chip! Told you I'd make it up to you, and the next chapter is just as long. Yay Venom-Real Spider-Man! You are reviewer 30! Grand prize? A pat on the back, a digital chocolate chip cookie, and an all expenses paid daydream to any location of your choice! (.'.) ----funny looking digital cookie. I'm sure it still tastes okay though!


	13. Wow, This is Awkward

Author. Ana wants to express herself. I will allow it as long as she behaves. Ana, over to you...

FATR (from ana to reader): Wow I'm in a fucked up mood tonight. Christ on a tricylce... Fine, we didn't mean to lie about chapter 13, but we had to split it up to stall again. We know it kind of sucks, it's more about building relationships and tension than anything else, but hang in with us. Things pick up again in chapter 15 (previous to the split, chapter 14). This is just a fun idea that popped into our brain. Mac is such a clutz /giggles/. Author may not like him, but I think he's cute. Nothing new to claim or disclaim so let the mayhem that is the unlucky chip chip of doom begin!

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Stephanie stood in front of her mirror bent over to one side so that her dark brown hair, made black by being wet, all hung on one side. The blow-drier's hum filled the still humid bathroom and an aqua green comb raked through the tangles. Her hair would be tangled again by the end of the day, she would brush it before bed, and it would be tangled again in the morning. _Curse natural curls, more trouble than they're worth._ She began the process of rubbing cocoa butter over every inch of her golden-brown skin. She may enjoy participating in violent wrestling matches on her breaks, but she still had a girlie streak and she liked being soft and sweet-smelling just as much as the next young woman. The tussle last night had inhibited her arms' range of movement and she couldn't reach between her shoulder blades. All well. After slipping into a white bra and pantie set she hung up her towel and walked into her bedroom.  
  
Her clothes were laid out on her bed. Fisk didn't force them to wear uniforms, per say, but he did insist that they wear black bottoms and white tops. Shirts had to have sleeves and there could be no mid-drift showing; all bottoms had to extend past the tips of the fingers when one's hands were at one's sides, et cetera. All in all it was like being in highschool again. The rules weren't as strict for those who worked around the pool, or even those who worked outside in general (for example, they didn't have to wear close-toed shoes), but there were still rules. Some people complained in private but Stephanie didn't care. The pay was excellent, and they were just clothes after all. If people didn't like it they could leave. She zipped her pants.  
  
The door opened.  
  
Stephanie crossed her arms over her chest and jerked around. Mac stood in the door frame, frozen, eyes wide. He wore a green hoodie, a white under shirt, and faded jeans.  
  
_Ohshitohshitohshit..._ "I... uhh... it wasn' locked..." _Don' stare, yah dumbass. It's bad enough yah walked in on 'er.  
_  
His eyes twitched back to her face and made a huge point of staying there. "It was closed, wasn't it?"A tinge of malice. _Don't worry about it, Steph, just pretend you're wearing a bathing suit top._ Her crossed arms lowered to a more relaxed position but the air was still thick with tension. "What is it?"  
  
Mac's heart pounded like it was trying to leap out through his chest. Perhaps trying to escape the butterflies that had suddenly hatched in his stomach? "Yah got mornin shift t'day?"  
  
"Unfortunately so. You think I would be up and dressed if I didn't?"  
  
_Dressed. Right._ "Yah think yah could get someone tah cover yah shift?"  
  
"I'm not sure. I'm not exactly the most popular right now. I think there are some rumors being spread or something."  
  
There was a long silence. Mac studied his feet and rubbed the back of his neck. "Could yah try?"  
  
"Any special reason for you to push this issue so hard?" She smirked.  
  
Mac shrugged. "Jus' wond'rin if yah wanna hang out. We're gonna play cards."  
  
"I don't particularly want to work. You find someone to trade shifts with me and I'll gladly take the morning off."  
  
Mac looked up and down the hall and spotted a girl making her way towards them. "Hey," Mac called to her.  
  
She stopped in front of the door. "Yes?"  
  
"What shift do yah have?"  
  
"Afternoon."  
  
"Well now yah have mornin." He turned to Stephanie. "Go put yah shirt on and le's go."  
  
"I had night shift last night," the girl explained. "You know that master Fisk has the rotation so that-"  
  
"Oh, wah, wah," Mac snapped. "Tell someone who cares."  
  
The girl glared at Stephanie. _Maybe she really is fucking them._ _It's not fair that she has them to ensure her special treatment._ "I'll do it, but put a shirt on for crying out loud." She strode off to get on her work clothes.  
  
Stephanie suddenly thought of something. He had already seen her in her bra, if only by accident, and last night he had been laying on top of her. In comparison it seemed so harmless. "Mac, could you do me a favor? If it doesn't weird you out too much."  
  
"Sure. What is i'?" She gestured him inside and he followed nervously. He waited uncertainly in the middle of her bedroom while she disappeared into the bathroom. He was wondering if he was supposed to follow or not when she returned and handed him the bottle of cocoa butter  
  
"Could you put that on my upper back for me? If you don't mind having petal soft, coconut scented hands," she added with a grin.  
  
_Tha's not the part tha's makin me nervous, b'lieve me._ "Not at all."  
  
"Just be warned that a little bit goes a long way." She turned her back to him.  
  
Mac licked his lips and swallowed hard. "Got'cha." He parted her hair over her shoulders, hesitated, then slid her bra straps off her shoulders. When his hand pressed against her bare back a tingle traveled through his figure tips. Her figure was so petite compared to his, her shoulders so slender. _Oh, god, please don' go there. Think of somethin else, somethin like... two times two is four. Four times four is, uh, sixteen, and sixteen times sixteen is... I got no clue._ Fortunately he was finished then with no unfortunate side effects. She turned and patted him on the cheek before going to dig up a shirt. It was a chummy and rather condescending gesture but it still made him place his hand thoughtfully against his cheek when her back was turned, savoring her touch. _Two plus two is four, four plus four is eigh'. Eigh' plus eigh' is sixteen. Sixteen plus sixteen is... carry the one... damn.  
_  
"Hey, Spacey McSpacerson." Stephanie snapped her fingers in his face. "Wake up and let's get going." She was wearing a powder blue, Smoothies Juice Bar baby t-shirt. On the right side it said 'Pool side delivery' and across the bottom it said 'Sweet, Sticky, and Full of Flavor.'  
  
Mac's eyes flitted over this last line. _I bet_. "What kinda rumors were yah talkin about b'fore?" He ventured as they made their way down the corridor.  
  
Stephanie shrugged. "Pretty standard rumors, I suppose."  
  
"I mean, what'd the rumors say?"  
  
"Basically that am sleeping with either one, some, or all of you," Stephanie laughed. "I don't know where that crazy idea came from. They can't be jealous, I know all of you have given them at least one chance for a fuck session. Well, all of you except Otto."  
  
Mac gave her a sideways look. "The idea's tha' crazy, huh?"  
  
Stephanie looked apologetic. "I didn't mean anything personal by it. It would just be like... having sex with a sibling."  
  
"I understand," Mac grinned/lied. "Don' worry about i'."  
  
Silence. "Hey, speaking of rumors, did you really cut that guy's hand off last night?"  
  
Mac nodded. "I was tryin tah get 'im tah drop the gun. I slipped."  
  
Stephanie raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Mac, you can be straight with me."  
  
Mac laughed. "Yeah, ev'ryone knows 'm better with m' tail than tha'."  
  
"Innuendo not intended, right?" Stephanie winked. He stared at her, chuckled, and gave her shoulder a light shove. However, light for him wasn't necessarily light by average human standards and she almost fell down. "First the wrestling match and now this?" Stephanie shook her head. "You going to start pulling my hair next? We're not in kindergarten. At least I'm not."  
  
"Stop makin fun a' me. Ev'ryone's always makin fun a' me," Mac grumbled without looking at her.  
  
Stephanie's apology was genuine. "Sorry, I was just playing around."  
  
"Yeah, well, don'." There was silence between them the rest of the way. Mac was aware he had made her feel bad. _But i' serves 'er right. Flirtin with me, teasin me, but always stayin just outta reach._

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FATR (from ana to reader): CURSE WRITING ACCENTS! DO NOT BE SURPRISED IF MAC NEVER SPEAKS AGAIN! /deep breath/ We're kidding of course, at least about the not speaking again part. Some of you may wonder why we are updating so soon if we need to stall for time. Well _I_ guess the main reason is... /gets all manic/ We've had it just about up to here /back of hand to underside of chin/ with this story! We require sufficient encouragement to continue this madness! The chapter I felt was the worst of all got the most feedback, and we are hoping this, the second worst chapter so far, will get lots of feed back. Ask questions, make predictions, maybe we'll be inspired with a glimmer of-

Author: /shoots Ana in the head/ That was... unusual. Heehee, sorry, she got away from me there for a minute. I know who 'chill your beans' is, I humbly request your permission to use your saying in chapter 15. Warm fuzzies from penguin land! Goodnight! /hauls Ana's bleeding carcass off to lala land./


	14. Cards

FATR: This chapter is dedicated to my dedicated reader, NatzandtheRatz. Wow, I'm sorry I was in such an off the wall mood last time I UDed. I forgot to mention that in chapter 12 I accidentally wrote something about pastel "floor" paintings instead of "floral," in case you hadn't figured that out. I proofread five times, I have no idea how that snuck past me, but it did, and I'm sorry. I don't own any of the t-shirts in this chapter. Zip, nada, zilch, nothing. The juice bar shirt mentioned in thirteen is in my possession but I bought it at an Eckerds (I know that's spelled wrong, and I'm sorry for that too) in The Keys. If it wasn't such a pain to fix typos on this site I'd go back and edit, but it is so much easier to do it this way. A message to you poker players out there: If I made mistakes, I apologize now. I researched, but not in great depth. Don't be deterred from correcting me, I accept legitimate creative criticism if it will help me in the future, but do so gently. No need to get all flamey over a technicality. I made aces low because I like how it rounds out the deck. Starting with 2 seems so unbalanced. This picks up right where 13 left off, because it was originally one in the same chapter, so go back and review what happened if you forgot.  
  
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Stephanie tried to shake off the mood Mac had just put her in as she followed him into the room. This room was done up almost just like a bar, with bar stools, card tables, booths, except for the couch and arm chairs in the middle of the floor. Stephanie had noticed that master Fisk really had a thing for arm chairs when it came to decorating. With his size she wasn't surprised. Max and Quinton were in there already sitting on the couch but she didn't see Otto. Quinton wore a t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. Max was dressed like a teenager, baggy jeans and a black t-shirt that read 'You can't have manslaughter without laughter.' She plopped down between them, threw an arm around each man's neck and grinned. "Hey boys. How's it hangin?"  
  
Max's eyes flicked to his lap and back to her face. "About the same."  
  
Stephanie removed her arm from his neck and smacked his shoulder. "You know I didn't mean it that way."  
  
Quinton raised an eyebrow. "'_About_ the same'?"  
  
Max grinned devilishly and started to say something.  
  
"Never mind," Quinton held up a hand. "I don't want to know."  
  
Mac snuck a glance at Stephanie from the bar. _Look at 'er, sittin there with her arm 'round Quinton's neck. She's teasin me, she jus' won' le' it go!  
_  
Stephanie leaned away from Max and flashed him a strange look when he leaned noticeably closer to her neck. "What are you doing?"  
  
"You smell good," he shrugged.  
  
"That _is_ generally the point of taking a shower," Stephanie answered.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Cocoa butter," Mac jumped in. "I helped 'er reach 'er back."  
  
Quinton gave Mac an amused look. He knew Mac was really trying to tell Max to back the hell off of Stephanie. "What, you want a cookie or something?" Quinton quipped.  
  
"I like it," Max grinned and grabbed Stephanie, burying his face in her neck.  
  
"Ack! Rape! Molestation! Help!" Stephanie laughed.  
  
Quinton smirked at Mac, as Mac glared daggers at Max, who remained blissfully unaware.  
  
Otto walked in. "Who's raping who?"  
  
"Max is raping Stephanie, " Quinton answered.  
  
"Oh, good, for a second I thought there was a problem."  
  
Stephanie stopped in her position on her back across Max's lap with both of her hands around his wrists trying to keep him from tickling her. She glared indignantly at Otto and exclaimed, "Hey!"  
  
The octopus man chuckled. The top two tentacles shot out and started doing stuff at the bar at immense speeds while he remained leaning on the bottom two. "Might I fetch you anything, my dear?"  
  
She sat up. "Just a water." Less than a minute later, she accepted the glass from the out stretched tentacle. "Thanks..." _That was fast.  
_  
_Dammit! Now he's doin it too! _Mac ducked out of the way and found his way to the arm chair. "Yah look like shit," he commented calmly.  
  
Otto laughed. "Pleased to see you as well." The tentacles returned, one bringing a drink to his lips.  
  
As soon as she put her glass down, Max grabbed Stephanie again, pulled up the edge of her shirt, and blew a raspberry on her stomach. She screamed and tumbled onto the floor.  
  
"Now, now children. It's all very funny until someone is injured," Otto scolded.  
  
"Then it's fucking hilarious," Quinton added.  
  
Stephanie gave him an accusatory look. "You know, I read something like that on a shirt somewhere."  
  
Quinton shrugged. "So I'm not that great at on the spot comedy." He turned to include the others. "What's the game? Texas hold em?"  
  
Stephanie sat up and crossed her legs, leaning back on her palms."I've never played any kind of poker before."  
  
"In tha' case, le's play strip poker."  
  
"You already saw me in my bra, what more do you want?" The look he gave her made her sorry she had asked. He had, strangely enough, possessed the decency to back off while under the impression she was a devout virgin but now that the truth was out the pursuit was back on.  
  
"Indian poker is pretty easy," Max offered.  
  
"Oh, come on," Quinton scoffed. "That retarded little game could hardly be called poker."  
  
"Other than tha' it involves bettin," Mac agreed.  
  
"Well I think it's fun," Max pouted.  
  
"As do I," Otto agreed. They all looked at Stephanie. "I suppose it's up to you, my dear."  
  
"I'll give it a go, sure."  
  
"Dim the lights, Max," Quinton gestured as he moved to one of the tables.  
  
Stephanie cocked her head at Max as the bulb flickered and faded. "Dim the lights?"  
  
"Max and I ran quite a scam on them for almost two weeks," Otto explained as he removed his glasses. "He would sit across from me and all of his cards would be reflected in my glasses. Afterwards we split the winnings." She still looked puzzled. "You shall see."  
  
"Yeah, Otto sure is a pain when it comes to playing cards. Those arms of his will make you paranoid as hell," Quinton laughed.  
  
Max took a seat between Otto and Quinton and began shuffling the cars. "You're face makes me paranoid as hell," he muttered.  
  
"What was that?" Quinton asked fiercely.  
  
Max's eyes stayed on the cards and he sarcastically mouthed 'what was that?' but aloud answered, "I didn't say nothin."  
  
"You're damn straight," Quinton grumbled.  
  
Max disregarded him. "Each person gets one card and puts a dollar in the pot. He then shows the card to everyone at the table but isn't allowed look at it himself. Starting from the left of the dealer, a person can either stay or bet. For example, if Otto deals, and I don't want to bet, it moves to Quinton. If Quinton places a bet, everyone who wants to stay in matches it and the next person to the left can raise it."  
  
"Why all that to the left business?" Stephanie asked.  
  
"It keeps the game more organized. We used to end up with two people trying to raise at once. It can get chaotic and a little violent." Max gave Quinton a pointed look as he spoke these last words. Quinton's lip curled into a snarl but he remained silent. "The game continues until the deck is gone. We play Aces low. The suits from highest to lowest are spades, hearts, clubs, diamonds." The human capacitor slid the deck to Stephanie. "Would you like to be the sexy dealer?"  
  
"I'll leave that to Otto," Stephanie laughed and slid the deck to the octopus on her left.  
  
Otto shuffled the deck once and began passing out the cards. "Sexy, am I?"  
  
"As far as men with four metal arms welded to their backs go." Everyone put a dollar in the middle of the table.  
  
Max took his card and held it up. "So, what was this business about Mac seeing you in your bra?"  
  
"And when do me and Max get our turn?" Quinton asked, observing the other players' cards.

She rolled her eyes. "The only reason he saw me in my bra is because he doesn't know how to knock."  
  
"What? You mean you don't lock your door?" Max threw a quarter in the center of the table. "I raise." There was a chorus of clinks as everyone matched.  
  
Quinton nodded. "My door is generally locked. I see your quarter and raise it a dollar."  
  
Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Fine, from now on I'll keep my door locked."  
  
Max eyed Quinton's 6 of hearts nervously and hesitated before matching. Was he bluffing? It wasn't a horrible card but it wasn't a great one either. It was the highest card he could see at the table. The odds that his card was higher were pretty good, but... When it came to Stephanie she bit her lip and her eyes flicked to Max's card. She hadn't matched yet, neither had Otto. Max raised an eyebrow at her and her eyes moved to Quinton and Mac. They then drifted down and she seemed to think. An amused smile played across her face and she put her card face down on the table.  
  
"I'm out."  
  
Otto thought for a moment longer and finally followed Stephanie's example. The remaining three looked at each other, alarmed, each wondering what card they held.  
  
Max shifted nervously as the bet moved to him. _With your luck you probably have the ace of diamonds._ Mac was tapping his four of clubs on the table and didn't seem to be paying much attention to the other players. _Quinton seems so sure of himself. Was Stephanie laughing at me or him? Quinton could know how insecure I am. Perhaps he's bluffing, using it against me._ He cracked each knuckle on his right hand individually while he thought.  
  
"Knock it off with the fire works and move already," Quinton growled impatiently.  
  
_Oh, god, he sounds like he really knows what he's doing. I can't bluff now, I've been so hesitant he must think he has a bloody Jack or something. I already matched so it would be stupid to fold..._ "I'll pass."  
  
Quinton caught the insecure tone in Max's voice and decided to use it against him. He had no idea what his own card was, but he knew Mac had a piece of shit card. _Even if Max's eight is higher than whatever I have, it's real easy to psyche him out. Almost too easy._ "I raise a dollar."  
  
"I see yah dollar and raise yah another."  
  
Max and Quinton looked at each other. Max matched and passed again but Quinton raised it two bucks this time. Mac chuckled, matched, and raised. Quinton leaned back to contemplate this and stared at the back of his card as if he possessed x-ray vision. His resolve was wavering at the steepness of the price. Was Mac really more of a threat than he had originally believed? And Max was still matching, though he was showing signs of wavering. If, however, Max did stay in, Quinton knew the chances were slim that his card could stand up to an eight of spades, and Mac had laughed about something... "I'm out," he grumbled.  
  
Max suddenly felt more confident. True, Quinton hadn't known that he held a six, but still, Max knew the odds that his card was better than a four of clubs were in his favor. This time Max matched and raised, and so did Mac.  
  
Mac didn't feel like he was playing for the money, he felt more like he was playing to put Max in his place. _Steph's mine, lightnin' boy. I'll show yah who's boss._ Mac was pissed by Max's apparent oblivion to what was happening around him. Max was always bouncing off the walls, lost in some happy land of his own. The human conductor was bad at poker be cause he always fell victim to the bluffs. It was sad, really, but it made the rest of them rich. Even now he seemed to be debating dropping out.  
  
Max looked uncomfortably around the table, trying to read expressions. Otto was always impossible to read, unless he wanted to be read, but Stephanie had a terrible poker face. She saw Max looking and gave him a half smile. "I see your five and raise you five." Mac tossed it in and raised, not really thinking anymore. Max wavered again. _Oh, damn, what if I really do have a card lower than the four of clubs? Shit. I suck at this. I can't win unless I cheat, I..._ He thought about Stephanie's smile. "I... I..." He paused. "Match... and call?"  
  
Mac tilted is head and raised his chin a little. "Yah askin me or tellin me, lightnin' boy?"  
  
Max's expression hardened. "I call." Both of them threw down their cards.  
  
Mac pounded his fist on the table. "Dammit."  
  
Max beamed (almost literally), collected his money, and the game continued. Stephanie noticed that Otto kept tending to drop out of the betting early and wondered why. She would have expected him to be good at cards. What was his strategy? "How did you all come across your powers, anyway?"  
  
"My experiment exploded," Otto answered.  
  
"I used to be a linesman, and one night at work I got struck by lightening," Max explained.  
  
"Tha' guy who owns the Bugle mutated me tah catch and unmask Spider-Man."  
  
Stephanie looked at Quinton, who had remained quiet. "What's your story?"  
  
"I was a special effects engineer, and a stuntman."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"One of my special effects went awry." Quinton was being deliberately vague.  
  
"I believe he is trying to say he doesn't actually have any powers," Otto explained. "He's more of a talented villain than a super villain."  
  
Mac stared. "Then how'd yah make tha' guy float like tha'?"  
  
Quinton glared pointedly at Otto. "I have powers. The good doctor here just doesn't believe in magic."  
  
Otto gave Quinton a sly smile and took the deck as deal once more returned to him. _That's what you say but I know how you do it. That smoke bomb trick last night was so easy a child could have done it.  
_  
The game went on and Stephanie noticed Otto was beginning to make a comeback, small at first but steadily gaining momentum. The deal came back to her and she spoke as she passed out the cards. "How about this: If you could have sex with anyone in the world, who would it be?"  
  
"Shathra," Mac and answered instantly.  
  
"Really?" Quinton asked. Then he shrugged. "Well, a bug for a bug, I guess..."  
  
"Scorpions are arachnids," Otto muttered.  
  
Quinton ignored him. "I'd take a threesome with Calypso and Shriek."  
  
"Forget the local chicks, I would choose Poison Ivy," Max grinned.  
  
"Oh, yes, death by poisoning is so hot," Quinton laughed.  
  
"Hey, you can have sex without kissing," Max shot back.  
  
"Wouldn' wanna blow job from 'er though," Mac muttered as he placed his bet. They all laughed, and even Otto smiled a little, though he mostly stayed out of the conversation. Mac gave Stephanie a half smile. "An' you?"  
  
She blinked. "Me?"  
  
"Yeah. Who would yah sleep with, Steph?"  
  
She smirked at the giant arachnid. "Catwoman." The others looked at each other. Even Otto suddenly became involved.  
  
Max finally broke the silence with, "I did not see that coming."  
  
"So are yah bisexual or..."  
  
"Nope, straight up lesbian."  
  
Otto stared at her. _She's not a_ _lesbian._ "You're not a lesbian."  
  
"Am so. Her name was Shannon. She was my lab partner in my twelfth grade biology class. She went away for college and I haven't been in a serious relationship with anyone before or since then."  
  
Otto shook his head slowly. "You can't pull one over on me. My pets know when people are lying."  
  
Stephanie laughed. "Okay, okay, I surrender."  
  
Max cocked his head. "Have you really only fucked one person or was that also part of the story?"  
  
"Why do you assume a 'serious relationship' involves fucking?" Max shrugged and Stephanie turned her eyes to the tabletop in thought. When the bet came back to her she picked up her card and threw ten bucks in the center. "Only two. And you?"  
  
Max folded while the others matched her raise of five. He laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back to think. "Four."  
  
"Only?" Quinton snorted. "I've got eleven notches on my bedpost."  
  
"Yes but she asked how many different people, not how many times total," Max retorted.  
  
"Then why did you answer how many times total?" Quinton snorted and sipped his drink.  
  
Max blocked this out too and continued to eye the master of illusions skeptically.  
  
Quinton sighed and put the glass down. "I've worked for some of the biggest directors in the business, you know, and there are plenty of young, naive girls who would do anything or anyone to be discovered." He looked quite pleased with himself.  
  
Otto chuckled. "I'm surprised you even know what 'naive' means."  
  
Quinton crossed his arms. "And how many people have you fucked, tentacle boy?"  
  
"I do not see what makes that any business of yours."  
  
"None, right?"  
  
Otto smiled softly. "Baiting me will not work. Unlike some people, I do not need to brag about my sexual conquests to feel secure about my masculinity."  
  
"Oh, burn!" Max laughed.  
  
Quinton scowled and the subject was dropped. Four hands later, everyone was friends again and it was as though the fight had never happened.  
  
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FATR: BTW, I'm most likely going to be Shathra for Halloween. She kicks so much ass! If you want to see what she looks like, do a google image search for "shathra." One of the things links to this adorable page that has all the characters drawn out in this really... well, adorable style. Yes, Quinton is a bit of an asshole, but we can deal with that. This was another group dynamic building chapter, so it was a little dull. There is much more action in the next few chapters, including the intro of a new character (yes, another one). Yay, made it through the lull! You give me reviews now! And for anyone who cares, my profile quote is updated and I've started posting "Cat in Training" under the title "Cat and a Half." Uh... "Heros are Made" has three chapters now... that's it, really. Okay, peace out from penguin land!


	15. The Support of Friends

FATR: Finally! The return of the action! The scene with Max and Mac was really fun to write... type... compose. Okay... um... "chill your beans" comes from NatzandtheRatz's profile. Leonis Del Armand is entirely my pal Bill's character. The old woman is mine. Emma is mine. Ana is mine. The Nasarian lore is mine. I don't own McDonald's, I don't own any Spider-Man related characters or situations, blah, blah, blah, you get the picture. This whole thing was actually really fun to compose. Ever since the declining action after chapter 8, I'd been in a bit of a slump. However, I refused to give in and abandon my story, and now I am being rewarded. I hope you as the reader also feel rewarded for sticking by me through slump time. Thank you Phoenix Sheriden and NatzandtheRatz for keeping me going during the dry period. /Looks over chapters 15 and 16/ Yes, definitely back to the rising action. Enjoy chip chip, all!

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A man in a smart black suit and white lab coat made his way down the corridor studying the numbers on the doors. His luxuriant black hair hung down his back, bound in a low ponytail, and his sea-green eyes sparkled. Just one glance from those heavenly orbs made most girls weak at the knees. _Let's see, D-12... D-14... Aha! D-16. _He raised a well manicured hand, ring finger adorned with a single gold band, to the door and gave it three sharp taps. He heard a female voice and movement inside. A lock clicked and silver eyes peeped around the door.

Emma beamed at the water demon on her threshold and yanked the door open all the way. "Leo!" She pulled him into a sisterly embrace. "What a pleasant surprise."

Leonis Del Armand hugged back with his free arm, the other being encumbered by a black medical bag. "I only wish I was visiting under more pleasant circumstances."

Emma stepped back and led him down the short, cramped hall into the livingroom so he could sit down and rest himself before she questioned him. She knew he had come a long, long way. "Have you eaten yet?"

"I stopped by McDonald's on my way here. How is this life treating you?"

Emma put some fresh water down for Picasso and settled into a chair across from Leo. "Let's see... My current biological family lives in Salt Lake city, where I attended school until, well, I think Ana discovered my hiding place. I moved here to finish college and keep her away from my family. I don't know if she would go that far out of her way to hurt them or not but..." Emma took a breath. "I became a reporter for the Daily Bugle so I could keep an eye on what was going on in the city, in case she showed up again. How are things domestically?"

Leo was fiercely family oriented. His wife, Lilly, and his twins, Alaina and Zach, were the most important things in the world to him. "Alaina flew a foot and a half yesterday." He beamed with fatherly pride. "Have you ever considered motherhood in any of your lives?"

Emma shook her head. "I don't need to give birth to have children." She smiled at Picasso who purred back. "Besides, I am the chaste one, and with Ana hunting me it would only complicate things."

Leo nodded slowly. "I see your point."

There was silence. "Why are you here, exactly?"

"Your parents told me to find you."

Puzzlement wrinkled Emma's forehead. "You mean my parents as in... Cshicomi and Nasarack? They never got involved before, at least not since Ana and I first began fighting."

"You know I wouldn't usually get involved myself, either, but Ana's going to do a lot more damage this time, if she succeeds. I can let good and evil live their lives but when one becomes a threat to the order of the dimensions... Anyway, you can't take this on by yourself, and Peter, even with his powers, is hardly a threat to Ana."

Emma felt immensely relieved knowing she had someone to share her burden with, a being who was a worthy opponent for psychotic sister. "I've been trying to locate the Spirit Stone all morning. George Richmond was its last known holder, but he has an unlisted phone number. I'd use magic but I don't want to leave residue hanging around here for Ana to trace."

Leo grinned and hoisted his bag into his lap. "Give me a place to set up and I'll get right on it."

Emma smiled back. "Would the kitchen table be large enough?"

Leo nodded, walked into the kitchen, and put his bag on the table. "But first, to get more comfortable." His human shaped ears became pointed, elongated, and more fin-like. A long tail with fins on the end snaked out from under the hem of the lab coat. Leo settled into a chair and the tail lay on the tile curled around the chair legs, tip flipping slightly. "That's better. Now let's see what I can dig up on this George you speak of." When he first opened his bag, it appeared empty, but he reached in and began pulling an amazing assortment of bottles, tubes, and dishes out of it. Emma sat at the counter and watched, fascinated, as he worked.

----

Ana, dressed in the black leather pants, a neon blue tank top, and a black fishnet shirt, strolled casually down the street whistling the song from Gremlins. As she made her way through the crowd, people stepped out of her way without even realizing they were doing it. The song ended as she stopped at the corner and looked around. She put one arm across her stomach and rested her other elbow on it, putting her hand to her chin in thought.

"Excuse me, miss," a shaky old voice croaked. "Might you spare some change?"

Ana turned to face the old homeless woman. She had a tattered shawl clinging to her frail shoulders and cheap plastic rosary around her neck. The old woman turned pale as Ana's eyes literally lit up and her pupils narrowed into reptilian slits. Her mouth opened into a snarl that revealed snake-ish fangs and let out a low hiss.

"Dear God..." The old woman trembled and unconsciously drew a cross over her breast. "Evil thing... be gone! In the name of God, be gone!" Her voice rose to a shriek but no one paid any mind to the crazy old woman on the corner.

Ana was debating making a snack of the old woman, or at least an amusement, but she was pressed for time. She had to locate this George guy before her goody two-shoes sister. "Your god cannot help you," she growled as she turned the corner and moved on. The time would come, but for now she couldn't just slaughter people in the streets, as she had done on Nasaria. These people actually had rules for dealing with things like that. _Not that a prison cell would hold me for long, but it would be quite inconvenient. _

----

If Stephanie hadn't had to go to work the game probably would have gone on until the deck was gone. That, and the betting balance was thrown off by the addition of a fifth party. Stephanie did alright for herself, and as a result Quinton barely made back what he had lost this time. Otto had done very well because he could, with aid from the computer on his back of course, keep track of the ratio of, for example, Queens to the rest of the deck. As the number of cards dwindled he could use probability to figure out which card he held. Now that the game was over he was perfectly content to slither off to his underground world and look further into the blood tests, perhaps repair the crashed computer.

Max watched Otto creeping out of the room. He knew Otto would fight him to the last stand but Max was determined to find out what had been eating away at the doctor's mind for the past nine days. As he started after the man, an unnaturally strong hand clamped on his shoulder and yanked him around. Max was faced with Mac, and Mac didn't look happy.

"Wha' the fuck do yah think yah doin?"

Max seriously thought about this question. "I'm following Otto, at least I was. Now I'm talking to you."

Mac grabbed Max's collar and jerked him closer. "Tha' innocent smart ass routine don' work on me. Stop fuckin 'round with Steph or I'll cave yah fuckin face in."

"Woah, there buddy." Max held up his hands. "It's not like she's responding anymore to my advances than she is to yours."

"I may no' be gettin anywhere now, but I still don' want'cha fuckin with m' chances."

"You feel threatened? By _me_?" Max laughed.

Mac shook him by his shoulders. "Stop laughin at me!"

Max had remained level headed until the physical attack made him automatically release a bolt of electricity to knock Mac off. The man in the green hoodie flew a few feet away and landed on his back. Max straightened his shirt and ambled over to Mac.

Mac looked up to see Max offering him a hand up. Somehow this enraged him even more. He grabbed Max's hand as though he was accepting the peace offering and threw Max to the floor. Mac latched an arm around Max's neck and squeezed. "Stay away from 'er! She's mine!"

Max managed to turn his head just enough to lick Mac's wrist.

Mac jerked back, appalled but not really shocked. "Wha' the fuck?! Yah sick freak!"

"It made you let go, did it not?" Max smirked as he picked himself up and dusted himself off. "Listen. I'm not trying to horn in on your action or anything, okay? So chill your beans. You really need to come up with a more passive aggressive way to express yourself." He left the homicidal bug to contemplate these words and went to seek out Otto, dismissing what had just transpired between him and Mac in his usual attention deficit way. He took a few steps out of the room before lifting off the ground and zipping down the hall on the energy in the wall wiring. There certainly was enough of it, what with all the rooms and appliances in the mansion. He wanted to catch Otto before he disappeared into the impenetrable fortress known as his lab. The walls of the stairwell lit up as Max zipped down into the gloom.

Otto stepped off the stairs and heard the crackle of electricity. He knew he could easily reach the door before Max reached him, but he didn't. Instead, he put on his glasses and waited.

Max caught Otto standing in front of the doors with his arms and the top two tentacles crossed in front of him, leaning on the bottom two as usual. It was weird to think of the tentacles as so much a part of him that they could automatically mimic just about any action of Otto's organic limbs. There were very few things that unnerved Max, so he didn't feel compelled to mask his intentions, or worry, with a lot of macho bullshit. "Are you doing experiments on yourself in there?"

Otto could understand how Max would have jumped to that conclusion, but he couldn't decide if he should let Max believe that was the truth or make up some other story. He finally laughed, "How did you make that leap?"

"I think Mac said it best: 'Yah look like shit.'"

Otto decided that this was one thing Max wasn't going to make a joke out of. _But is it really anyone's business but my own? Why did this guy have to latch on to me? Honestly... _He sighed. "I had a... a nightmare I guess you could call it. In it, I succeeded, the generator worked, and everyone was praising me..."

"And that is a nightmare because...?"

"There's more than one way to have a nightmare," Otto mumbled as he turned to the key pad. He did want to talk, or at least sort of did. If he hadn't wanted to he wouldn't have waited, but he wasn't quite sure if... Well, if any of these clowns were good enough to talk about Rosie, Max was the one. He left the glasses on, even though it was dark, to control just how much was given away in this little chat. "Did you know I was married?"

Max raised his eyebrows in surprise. "No I did not." He decided not to ask what had happened to give Otto the chance to back out of the discussion if he wanted.

Otto nodded, his back still to Max. "Her name was Rosie, I met her in college. She was... my first and last love."

"What, did she leave you after your accident?"

"In a metaphorical sense, yes," Otto whispered.

Realization donned on Max and he mouthed a silent "Oh."

Otto had to take a breath before taking the next step. "That's not all, though. It was... it was my invention that killed her." Here the scientist turned around to see the lightening rod eyeing the metal creatures that danced and hovered around their creator. "No, it wasn't them. It was my fusion reactor. They actually saved my life when the glass broke."

Max had a vague recollection of newspaper accounts of the accident, but he didn't quite understand how a magnetic effect could have sucked in the glass. "What have you been doing down here, then?"

"I'm analyzing the mutagenic elements in your blood samples, how they react to various foreign agents, the effect they have on the nucleotide bases, DNA replication, et cetera."

Max thought this over for a minute. "Okay... Can I watch?"

Otto shook his head.

_Damn it, so close. _"Eh, worth a try," Max shrugged and waved. "See you later, octoman." _What do the blood samples have to do with his wife dying? Huh. I guess they don't really have anything to do with each other. Now, how to fill up the rest of the day..._


	16. Where is It?

FATR: I'm sorry I haven't updated this in a while. It sort of fell out of popularity, so I turned my attention to "Cat and a Half" instead. The momentum really is picking up again. It's a shame not as many people are reading anymore. Anyway, I'm putting this up for the ever faithful NatzandtheRatz (what does that screen name mean, any way?). I realize the content of this chapter may be mildly disturbing to some readers, so I will include a basic summary at the end. If at any point you find yourself uncomfortable you can opt to skip to the end. To the chip chip!

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Ana would have killed to able to fly (hell, she would have killed for no reason at all) but the city was too crowded for her to ever get a moment alone and it was too risky to fly in broad daylight. "How do these humans live like this? For the sake of Cshicomi..." Ana grumbled, practically spitting out the word 'humans.' She had been walking for about an hour now and the going was almost painfully slow. She looked up at the houses passing on either side, because that's what they were now, large elegant houses with neat front lawns. This was miles away from apartment land. She was almost there. Pausing in the middle of the street to get her bearings she felt around with her mind until she felt his specific energy pattern calling to her. Ana turned towards the house it was coming from and eyed the facade, trying to pinpoint him with greater accuracy. The house was only a third as massive as Fisk's. She supposed George's wealth was marked by the fact that he could afford to purchase a house with its own lawn at all. How these humans and their money functioned was still a mystery to her, but she still liked it. Money could corrupt, money could make people kill each other, so money was good. Top floor near the back. Ana glanced around to make sure no one was watching and faded out of visual existence.

Ana landed and walked literally through the closed balcony door as if it were no more solid than mist. The room was lined with shelves of ancient Incan artifacts. This man was really into his history. From the looks of the place this was some kind of study. Ana moved across the room and opened the next door. This one was the bedroom, and it was done up like an ancient armory. There were shields and swords and battle axes prominently displayed for all to see. _I wouldn't want to be a robber sneaking unawares into this room. _She chuckled. _That is sort of what I am, though, isn't it? _There was movement in the hall and voices.

"...and make sure it stays purple this time."

"Yes, sir."

Footsteps faded away down the hall as the door nob turned. Ana stayed right where she was and turned to watch the man. His hair had a salt and pepper look to it. It was George. She bit her lip in thought and mentally checked the hallway and surrounding rooms. There were people around, quite a few of them. Now, she had two options. One was subtlety, watch and observe until he lets the location out through a thought or an action. The second, and more appealing, was to have a little fun with the old bastard. Though the former would be more efficient and wouldn't involve a body to dispose of, Ana opted for the latter. Besides, she wasn't worried about being found out. Emma was the only being in this dimension with the power to destroy her, and Emma couldn't fight to save her life. "George."

George's head snapped up and his eyes darted around the room. "Hello?"

"You have something I want."

George backed towards the wall and reached behind him for a weapon. "Who are you? Show yourself!" He watched a vaguely familiar form materialize before his very eyes. He pulled a battle ax off the wall. "Now explain yourself. Are you peaceful?"

Ana eyed the toy with a tinge of amusement in her bright eyes, far from intimidated. "I want the Spirit Stone." She prowled towards him. "I assume that if you had the other four elements, you must know where the fifth is located."

Now, at this point one must be wondering why George is so relatively calm for a man in his situation. He was no stranger to ghosts and other worldly beings, good and evil. However, he was not quite sure who this might be, and he was hesitant to hand over such powerful secrets. "I won't tell you a thing until you identify yourself."

Ana kept advancing. "I have a sister that is also after the amulet. We must not let her get it, there is no telling what she would do."

"Tell me your name," George insisted. She was only a yard or so away now.

Ana sighed. "Fine. I lied. I am Anaconda Cobra Swamp-Adder, daughter of Nasarack and Cshicomi. I am a-"

George's expression hardened. "I know who you are, at least enough to know not to give you the stone."

"Not willingly, at any rate," she responded ominously.

"You're right about that." He swung the ax with surprising force. It burrowed into her stomach and knocked her to the floor. "Get out of here, now!"

Ana laughed as blood gurgled out of her throat.

The ax raised again. "I'll kill you, I swear!"

"You know less than I thought," she laughed.

George scowled and chopped off her head. "Filthy demons," he grumbled. He knew full well what the stones could do when brought together, and now he also knew he had better make sure the last one was secure. He couldn't have someone like Anaconda opening the gate between the worlds. Someone like her could not possibly have any kind of pure intentions. And what if she was working for somebody else? He walked into his study to make a call. When he closed the door and turned around he spotted her standing by his desk holding a sword.

"I don't work for anyone, everyone works for me. I knew you knew where it was, and if you don't tell me things could get nasty."

George spun on his heel and ran for the door. When he flung it open she was waiting right on the other side. There was a strange moment where the doors passed through her and then she grabbed his throat in a vice grip.

"Come on, Georgie, don't be like this." She cast him to the carpet. "I just want a little information." She hauled him into a sitting position and punched him back down. "Is it worth losing your life over?"

George rolled over and tried to crawl away but she grabbed his ankle and hauled him back with supernatural strength. Her booted foot pressed onto the back of his neck and the sword hung at her side, the tip appearing in his line of vision. "I would..." He choked. "I would rather... lose my life than... than help you."

Ana knelt on his back and turned the sword in her hands, admiring the glint of the blade. "Let me ask you this, then. What are your thoughts on sodomy?"

"W-what?"

Ana shoved about a fourth of the sword the last place anybody would want such a large, sharp object and was rewarded with a scream and a rush of pain energy. "Where are you keeping the stone?"

"I don't have it," George gasped. "I don't have it!"

Ana twisted the sword deeper. "Where is it, you filthy mortal? Where the fuck is it?!"

There were tears streaming down the man's face as he tried to fight through the pain and speak. His breath came shallow and shaky. "I l-lent it to... to a f-friend." He swallowed hard and took a breath. "He wanted to display... for the museum..."

Ana looked suspicious. "Why would you put something like that out where anyone could see it and snatch it up?"

"I didn't know... people were after it. The others... safe, I thought..."

"Which museum?"

"Can't find it yoursel-? Ah!!" George was cut off as the sword twisted still deeper. "God, stop! I'll tell... History museum. The history museum!"

Ana was beaming from ear to ear, having the time of her life. She leaned right down next to his ear. "You do know there is no way you can survive this, right?" George coughed as a trickle of blood ran out of his mouth. The demonic Nasarian hissed in pleasure as her eyes glowed and her fangs slid out. She licked away the blood on the corner of his mouth and shoved the sword all the way in to the hilt. His dying cry echoed, the complete and utter surrender of energy causing her to groan and tilt her head back, closing her eyes in ecstacy. Yes, death was the ultimate empowerer. Her eyes snapped open. Her sister was near, she could sense her pattern. Ana was debating taking the little bitch out right then but hesitated. There was another force with her, a formidable force. She thought she recognized the pattern to be... _Leo? What the fuck is he doing here? Damn, I don't have time to fight him. No matter, I'll be ready to soon enough. Now, time to make my little octopus work for his keep... _She stood up, faded into the air, spread immense leathery wings, and took to the sky, lifting off right through the very roof.

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FATR: Hello, my week stomached friends, if that is indeed why you are here. Basically, Ana finds out the Spirit Stone is at the history museum. She senses that Emma is near but decides not to kill her yet because Leo is with her and Ana doesn't really want to take the time to fight with Leo right then....blah blah blah...Um, is going to get Otto to steal the stone.... those are the important points. Okay. The rest of you. Fun chapter, huh? Yeah, that's what I thought. At any rate, see you next time, whenever that is...


	17. Make Me an Offer I Can't Refuse

FATR: I know very few people are reading this anymore, but I got a fresh wind of inspiration. That and I discovered that there are some things that need to be corrected in the "Cat and a Half" story line. I should have more thoroughly researched the episodes that came before it. Goddammit! Who would have guessed that Jason disappeared from Felicia's life because he was the Hobgoblin? Every time I saw The Cat I wondered about that, and now I know, and now I have to fix it somehow. Does anyone know: If I replaced the chapters with different text, without removing them, just replacing them, would I lose the reviews that the chapter has so far? Please answer, it only takes one person to answer, but try not to just assume that someone else will do it. If everyone assumes that the next reader will help, no one will help. Anyway, onto chip chip.

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Emma went as fast as the speed limit would permit down the street. She prayed to Nasarack the father and Cshicomi the mother that they weren't too late but there were some very negative vibes hanging in the air. Next to her, Leo was fiddling with some little device he had unveiled from one of the many latent pockets in his lab coat.

"Strictly a precautionary measure," he assured her when she saw Emma eyeing the stunner quizzically. "In case she shows up and gets violent."

"In case?" Emma laughed. "All that time I spent dead? She was alive, gathering energy... She's grown so much more than since you last saw her."

"Don't worry. This thing could drop a charging Jaruvian horn demon-"

Emma let out a loud cry and slammed on the breaks as her stomach dipped and her vision grayed out for a moment. She hunched over the steering wheel, panting, and slowly raised her eyes to the house a little ways down the street. "Leo... ?"

Leo sat back in the seat, eyes on the same target as Emma's. "I smell blood." He looked at Emma who was still watching the house. "Do you think..."

"I'm not sure." Emma hopped out of the car and ran for the house.

"Wait,"Leo called. "We need a plan."

Emma at first didn't hear him in her rush to get to George. If she could get there in time she could save him. That was her job, wasn't it? To save the lives Ana tried to take? After she let Jessica and her family down, she just couldn't miss this one. She couldn't- A cold shadow passed over her and she collapsed to her knees. _Again. I'm too late again. If I hadn't been so selfish, hiding myself from Ana, I could have reached him before her. I could have stopped it this time._

Leo ran up behind her hunched over form. "They won't just let us in."

"I can't believe I let him die," Emma murmured. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "I should have been able to reach him last night, I could have been able to, but I was scared."

"Of course you were." Leo knelt and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Anyone would have been."

Emma shook her head, still fighting back tears. "I'm not 'anyone.' I'm Emaschire Aracshi Nasar. I'm the daughter of the Mother and the Father themselves. I'm supposed to be perfectly good, perfectly selfless..." A tear trickled down her cheek. "Perfectly happy..."

"As far as being perfectly selfless goes, you cannot possibly be any help to anyone if you are dead. No one can be perfectly happy, there is no such thing as perfect happiness." Leo straightened up, took her hand, and helped her to her feet. "We can still get to it before her if we hurry."

Emma wiped her eyes and nodded. "She left. She didn't want to fight you, not yet at least." She gave him a pale smile. "Now what?"

Leo thought hard for a second or two. Then a smile slipped across his face. "Okay, here's what we're going to do..."

----

Stephanie growled to herself as she dropped another shard of bloody glass into the bucket she had brought along. She really wished the rest of the staff would quit acting like the super-villains were her territory alone. Jenny had taken the morning shift, she should have cleaned up Max's broken mirror, but no. Jenny hadn't wanted to go in Max's room. Some bullshit about being scared. Stupid, she was just trying to get Stephanie back for this morning. She knew that if Stephanie tried to take it up with master Fisk, she would have to admit that she had unofficially dodged the morning shift to gamble with the super-villains. Thinking about that made her wonder about the exact nature of Max's mental health. She knew he was nuts, they all were in their own way, but there seemed to be more than severe ADHD involved in Max's case. She stopped to laugh at herself. She was trying to psychoanalyze a super-villain. Jesus. _Well, now I know why his hand is cut. I just assumed in had happened last night while they were out. _She heard the door open but didn't turn around. "You made quite a mess, Max."

Max's head jerked up and he eyed her back quizzically. "I guess I did. Huh."

She heard the bed squeak as he sat down and turned to look at him. There were bruises forming around his neck, like someone had tried to choke him. "What happened?"

"With the mirror?"

He actually seemed genuinely puzzled. "That too, but I was referring to your neck."

He mouthed 'my neck...' and put his hand to his throat. "Oh, that! Mac picked a fight with me. About..." He thought.

"About?"

He squinted one eye and pursed his lips as he thought. "I don't think it's my place to say, really," he finally answered.

Stephanie went back to work. "So you're telling me that Mac tried to strangle you."

"Exactly."

"Not more than an hour ago."

"Yep."

"And you forgot."

Max shrugged. "Memory is a funny thing, isn't it? Besides, I didn't forget, I just had other things on my mind. Didn't really have the time to consciously process it, you know?"

There was something else on Stephanie's mind, too. Something that had been bugging her ever since she had asked that question. It was a silly something, but she still couldn't get it out of her mind. "So out of any girl in the entire world, you would want to have sex with Poison Ivy?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"Any special reason why?"

"She's hot."

Stephanie left it at that. Besides, she was finished and she had to move on to her next task. "See you around." The thing that really bugged her was that every last one of them, well, except Otto who hadn't answered, had picked super-villainesses. It made her feel... inadequate somehow for not being a super human. It was ridiculous, of course, because she didn't see any of them in that way, but it still hurt on some level. She hadn't expected any of them to pick her. That wasn't the issue. It was really just the principle of the thing. _Maybe I should take it up with the resident mad scientist. _Though this thought crossed her mind as a joke, it really made her stop and examine that option. _Would Otto turn me into a super human if I asked him to? What was he doing with our blood samples, anyway? Hmm... _She walked into one of the other rooms in her jurisdiction and glanced around. How many rooms did one person need, really? At some point the rooms just become the back drop for the stuff. This room was such a case. Most of it was art master Fisk had collected over the years, like a miniature personal museum. Between two bronze statues were two love seats, back to back. The super-villains never came in here, at least not as far as she knew. It was mostly a quiet place for Fisk to reflect on things. He did a lot of reflecting lately, especially since his wife had left him and his son and gone to jail. She didn't know the specifics. It wasn't her place to ask. Not that she wanted to know.

"This is the place where I sit, this is the part where I love you too much..." she sang as she began to oh-so-carefully dust the statues. This room had been designated her's because master Fisk had absolute faith in her grace and light touch as a dancer. Stephanie knew this room was sacred to him, and she treated it with due respect. "Is this as hard as it gets? 'Cause I'm getting tired of pretending I'm tough. I'm here if you want me, I'm yours you can hold me..."

She didn't notice the eyes of the painting on the back wall flash blue and come to life, watching her.

"I'm empty and taken, I'm tumbling and breakin', 'cause you don't see me, and you don't need me, and you don't love me..."

"Stephanie," the female voice that had visited Max hissed.

Stephanie jumped and turned to eye the Mona Lisa on the back wall. No one knew that the one in the museum was a forgery. Fisk had the real one. She didn't know why, and again, she never asked. "Uh... yes?" Then she mentally kicked herself for talking to a painting. _I've been hanging out with those four far too much lately. I think I've lost it._

"Don't worry, sugar tits. You are perfectly sane."

The painting's lips had actually _moved_! Stephanie's eyes darted around and she crossed her arms over her chest. She couldn't really figure out how to react to either statement. "Err... I... Sorry, but who are you?" The painting swirled into a vortex of colors and reformed into a portrait of a woman with long black hair and electric blue eyes. Two large black dragon wings arched out of her back and fangs glittered in her mouth. She was wearing a black vinyl corset and a long tattered skirt with dangerously high slits in it at various intervals. There was blue light reflecting in her hair and top. The most unnerving thing, however, was that this demonic creature was sitting on a pile of skulls. She gave Stephanie what may have been an attempt at a friendly smile but the fangs and reptilian eyes ruined any friendliness there might have been.

"I'm Ana, a friend of Otto, and possibly you as well."

"What do you want?"

Ana laughed. "It's not about what I want, my dear, it's about what you want. Your thoughts are intriguing. Tell me, what kind of super human do you see yourself as?" She leaned her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her hands as she waited for Stephanie's response.

"I never really gave it that much thought before," Stephanie admitted.

"Well, what do you want? Strength? Power? Sex appeal?" Ana winked at this last statement. "Or would you like 'D'–all of the above?"

"I've seen movies. If I haven't gone completely insane, which is an explanation I'm still entertaining, I know this is not just about what I want. You're going to take my soul or something, aren't you?"

"Only your first born."

Stephanie stared at her.

Ana laughed again. "I'm kidding. What would I do with a whiny, snot nosed, little brat, anyway? Eat it?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

"Come on, sugar tits, there has to be something you want, something you can only get by making a few changes. Okay, you don't completely trust me. I understand. If I were you, I might not completely trust me either. How about you let it incubate upstairs for a little while? You know where to find me if you change your mind."

And with that the painting swirled into a vortex again and returned to normal. Stephanie blinked a couple times, shrugged, and went back work.

----

Otto flipped through a book, trying to figure out what the new DNA that had formed in Stephanie's blood looked like. It seemed a tiny bit familiar, not something entirely alien. He sat back and sensed a powerful presence behind him. He whipped around but only saw Jessica's books on a table. Shaking his head, he turned back to his work and paused. A glance over his shoulder brought his eyes to rest on the books once more. Turning in the swivel chair he tilted his head curiously. The top two tentacles retrieved the thickest one and dropped it in his lap. The cover had a strange hand print stamped on it in silver. There were various signs and symbols placed at strategic and perhaps meaningful places on the palm and fingers. The middle of the palm was a pentacle with an eye in the center. Some of the other symbols were vaguely similar to astrological signs he had seen. It made him wonder at the melding of cultures that took place when the Nasarians were forced to scatter. He opened the book to a random page and scanned the text. He was disappointed that he couldn't read it. There were, however fascinating diagrams to try and figure out. There was a picture of the island, he guessed, with labels that he couldn't understand pointing to various parts of it. With a deep sigh he flipped the book closed and looked up to reach for the smaller one. There she was, blue eyes glowing in the dim light, casually leaning against the desk with her arms crossed.

Ana smirked. "A little light reading, Octavius?"

Otto ran his hand over the cover of the book. "What does it mean?"

Her arms dropped to her sides and she shifted her weight to her right foot. "You know, if you keep wasting what you have already given me on trivial things like this, you'll never get your wife back. Favors are earned-"

"Never given. I know," he whispered.

"And some cost more than others." He still wouldn't look at her and she sensed a deep sadness welling up within him. This tortured soul was a virtually limitless energy source. The angst in his life was in fact worth even more than George's death, Mac's jealousy, Quinton's arrogance, and Max's self-loathing all combined. "I have a job for you."

"So you found it?"

_He sounds so hopeful. It would be such a shame if his dreams were shattered yet again. _"It is in the History Museum. You will go now." _And with any luck, everything will fall into place within the next 36 hours._

Otto studied the cover of the book again, absently tracing the silver lines with his fingers. "Fisk is getting on my case again, because of Jessica."

A dark cloud passed across her face but Otto didn't see it. Her voice dripped with venom as she spoke her next words. "That is not my problem. Did I tell you to take Jessica and Jacob?"

"No."

"So stop bitching about your issues with Fisk and do as I say."

Otto paused then took a deep breath. "Do you... Will I really get to see Rosie again?"

Ana cocked her head. "You doubt me, Octavius?"

"No... I mean... If..." Otto thought better of his words and shook his head. "No." He put the book down, still not looking at her. "I... I need to wrap up here first." He heard her hiss to herself and felt her glare on him. Otto didn't flinch, at least not outwardly.

"Fine," she finally growled. "But if certain people get to it first, I will have your head. Do you understand?"

Otto nodded quietly, eyes on the floor, and stayed that way until he could no longer feel Ana's presence. Then his eyes returned to the screen. He stared blankly, lost in his own thoughts, face bathed in red light. "I hope..." He sighed heavily. "Let's go." Even though he knew that if he went, his partners had to go along. "I would like to request your permission to..." He stopped and thought. He smiled at his pets. "Perhaps I should just get right to the point. I feel like robbing the history museum. Anything you want me to pick up while I'm there, master Fisk?"

_What if he asks why?_

"Do you think I could convince him it's because I'm bored?"

_You could manipulate one of the three stooges into making the request for you. _

"That's not nice," he scolded but couldn't help chuckling a little. "I would like to wait until nightfall, but I don't think that would sit well with Ana."

_Pardon our opinion, but the way you let her boss you around is pathetic. The same goes for Fisk. You could take Fisk, you know you could. _

Otto shook his head sadly. "Sometimes you have to submit to others. Especially if they have some kind of power over you. Do not fret, though, my pets, for once I open the gate I will have everything I require to reassert control over my life, maybe even the lives of those around me." He could sense the arms' approval. With a sick smile on his face, Otto pushed himself to his feet to go pay a visit to Fisk.

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FATR: Don't forget to help me with the question posted at the beginning of the chapter. Penguin Peace!


	18. Prerequisits

FATR: I own Spider-Man 2 on dvd! I got it on the night of November 30! I watched it with the trivia feature turned on! Woohoo! When I found out that mom bought it for me I started jumping around the livingroom, clutching the box to my chest, doing the fangirl squeal. And I also watched the blooper reel. That was fun. Okay, now then... NatzandtheRatz: Come on, tell me about the name. The mention of Batz just intrigues me even more. Tell me the story, and let decide if I think it is uninteresting or not. Please? I am very easily amused. I have been signing in and updating at least once a week, just not always this story. Now I am neglecting my other stories because I got my... third wind on this one. Yes, I believe I am on my third wind, now. I'll return to "Heros are Made" and "Cat and a Half" later, but for now this one and "Temptation of Otto" are the orders of the day. Though, "Temptation" has been finished for some time now, I'm just taking my time updating it. Heh... uh... Thank you for the help, Phoenix Sheridan. It was very... well, helpful! I present to you... Dah Duh! The internet chocolate chip cookie of gratitude! (,',) Well, it kind of looks like a cookie, right? big grin I really enjoyed your review as well, Agent Silver. Oh, yes, I really did. Now, if you bothered to read this far into my babble, pat yourself on the back. If you skipped right to the story, then you won't know that I said screw you. Hehe, just kidding, haven't gotten a lot of sleep lately. My own fault. ANY-hoo, chip chip time!

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Emma had never realized that Leo was such a smooth talker. It was one of the reasons she was so grateful to have his assistance this time. Emma herself could never lie and manipulate her way into someone's house. Leo had simply walked up to the door, rung the bell, and explained that he was a detective George had hired. He had gone on to say that George had been unsure of the safety of one of his pieces and that he, Leo, had been hired to do a little research. He had found out that the artifact was indeed in danger and had to see George right away. There were several other things that Leo had expertly thrown out there, shooting down each suspicious question as soon as it was tossed his way. Now they were upstairs, the man who had answered the door was in a chair in the hall trying to hold down his lunch, and Leo was studying the body. Emma knew that she was late for work, but she figured if she could get a scoop on this Jameson might forgive her. Though it made her uncomfortable because she felt like a manipulator, she tended to bring out the better in everyone, including the ever grouchy James Jonah Jameson.

"I think cause of death is obvious enough," Leo muttered. He had been careful not to touch the body too much, though as a demon he possessed no fingerprints. "Are you getting anything?"

Emma took a breath, the reek of blood making her stomach churn. "She came in through the study and left through the roof. He... tried to kill her... over there," she pointed to the wall with the missing battle axe, "and then ran into her again in the study. She left..." Emma studied the ceiling and felt rather than saw the lingering residue of magic. "Right there."

"You can't tell anymore?"

"I can see what spells she used and where. Unfortunately, I have not been given much alive time to strengthen my powers. Every time she kills me, I have to essentially start all over again."

Leo looked hopeful. "Does that mean if we kill her this time and she comes back, it would be easier to kill her next time?"

Emma winced. "Please don't talk about killing her in such an offhanded fashion. She is my sister after all, no matter what she does to me."

Leo nodded his understanding. She was still hoping they could find a balance, but he doubted that would ever happen. Just as Emma was one extreme, Ana was another. He, however, knew how much stress Emma was under and didn't want to shatter her dreams completely. Sometimes dreams were all the truly good could have. "I guess we've done all we can do in here. Let's go talk to our friend in the hall."

Emma was the first out of there, more than happy to get away from the grisly scene. The smell of death alone made her ill. The thought that anyone could do such a gruesome thing was just beyond her.

The butler was scared half way to a catatonic state. _It had to be about... whatever artifact Leo was hired to watch, but what could be so important as to drive a person to murder? _He heard the door open and when he refused to make eye contact, Leo crouched in front of him.

"I would only like to ask you a question or two. The person who did this is still loose, and after something very valuable. This person will kill again if you don't help."

The butler looked up at Leo's female companion. She had remained silent thus far, but he felt no reason to distrust her, none at all. Her face was the angelic embodiment of truth. She seemed deeply troubled, but when she noticed him watching her she smiled reassuringly.

Emma placed her hand on the frightened man's shoulder. She didn't have to speak to him. The gesture alone seemed to comfort him immensely. His muscles relaxed under her touch. "We only want to know if you know where the Spirit Stone is being kept."

"I don't know..." the man eyed Leo suspiciously.

"Please," Emma whispered. "It is vital that we find it before someone else does."

The man was moved by her desperation and sincerity. He felt the warm light spreading out of her finger tips and passing into him. He had been close to George, his right hand man, so to speak. George had spoken to him about the potential power of the stones, about dimensions beyond the one full of super heros and villains, and about... "Emma?"

Emma blinked. "Yes..."

He grasped her hand. "Don't be afraid." The butler dropped to his knees in front of her. "It is truly an honor to be touched by your radiance, and I would be more than happy to inform you that the stone is in the World History Museum. At least, that is the last place he had it. If he knew it was in danger he may have had it moved."

"Thank you." Emma was flattered by and a little uncomfortable with all this adulation.

"Will everything be okay? With the stones and all?" The butler asked, gazing imploringly into her eyes.

"Leo and I are doing our best."

"If only I had known first, I wouldn't have been so difficult about letting you in."

Emma put her over hand over his. "Don't worry about it. I would like you to go call the police right away, answer their questions honestly, and try not to worry."

By now quite a crowd had collected in the hall. As they were taking their leave, Leo whispered, "Are you sure it's wise to involve the police?" in Emma's ear.

Emma looked sad. "If we don't stop Ana we'll have much worse to look forward to, and if we do stop her we can go home."

"Dodging the cops by dimension hopping, huh? I dare say I may be detecting a touch of deviousness in that plan."

"Not really. We didn't do anything wrong. We are not dodging anything. I do, however, really, really have to get to work. Can you take care of things?" But she was really asking if he could take care of himself.

Leo gave her a cocky grin. "Of course I can. I'll get Spider-Man..." He trailed off when he saw Emma cover her face with her hands and bite back a sob. "What's wrong?"

"I wanted to help his and you know who's relationship." Emma took a breath and looked at the sky, hoping gravity would help keep the tears behind her eyes. "Basically they're out of the battle until sometime this evening. You'll have to take care of it yourself, Leo. I'm such an idiot."

"Don't worry about it. Everything will be fine. Just you wait and see," Leo assured.

"I guess..." Emma gulped. "I guess... if that song and dance back there was any indication of your character... yeah, I think you'll be just fine."

----

One of Otto's pets tapped on the door.

"Yes?"

"It is Octavius, master Fisk. I have a couple of things I wish to discuss with you, if you are not otherwise engaged at the moment."

There was silence while Fisk thought this over. "As you wish."

Otto stepped inside. He had rehearsed several opening lines on his way up but had ended up discarding all of them. The Kingpin was lounging in his large chair behind his desk with his hands on the arm rests. There was some paper work on his desk with a ballpoint pen dropped carelessly across it.

"I am quite busy at the moment, Octavius."

"I assure you I will not consume very much of your time at all."

"You have three minutes."

Otto bowed his head to demonstrate his submissiveness to the Kingpin's power. His tentacles hissed their disgust in his head but he ignored them. "I have not exactly been myself lately, and for that I apologize. Perhaps I can make it up to you somehow."

Fisk raised an intrigued eyebrow. "I suppose you already have something in mind."

"You always were a sharp one, sir."

The octopus raised his head and the light flashed off his glasses. There was a demonic smirk on his face. However, the mountain of a crime lord was not unnerved by this hellish expression. He was, after all, the Kingpin, and everyone answered to the Kingpin. "What are you proposing?"

"I am, humbly of course, requesting your permission to take the boys out on a little excursion to the World History Museum. If memory serves correctly, they have an exquisite collection of jewels in the Egyptian exhibit."

Fisk leaned back in his chair and eyed Dr. Octopus suspiciously. Why was he humbling himself now? Fisk still didn't know what secret agenda had driven the abduction of Jessica and Jacob. It had played out well enough for Fisk's interests, and the boy was all right, if not for the trauma of waking up to seeing his mother butchered. When they had left, the boy had been walking without assistance, though he still wasn't talking. "Answer me this: what are you hiding?"

Otto looked surprised. "Hiding, sir?"

"You spend all day in your lab, and no one knows what you are doing down there. You take Jessica and Jacob down there, and Jessica's body comes back practically liquified. I also have it on good authority that you took some books from their home. I cannot help but wonder what your _real_ motive is for robbing the museum."

Otto would not be fazed by this line of interrogation. "The others will be joining me, and I give you my word that I, we, will have something for you when we return. Is there anything in particular you desire? Something you may have had your eye on?"

Fisk rubbed his chin as he debated this. "Let me see if I understand what you are doing here. You will pay me off and I will not ask questions about what is going on under my own home. Is that it?"

Otto didn't smile or laugh, at least not externally. "Yes, sir, that is exactly what I am doing."

Fisk thought about this. "I will allow you to proceed with your museum adventure on two conditions. First of all, I want you to go after it gets dark. Second of all, I want you to bring the spoils of your endeavor to me for inspection. Once I see the peace offering, I will determine if it is a sufficient payment for looking the other way."

His plan was so close to fruition it didn't really matter if Fisk decided to press the issue or not. Otto had bought himself some time, and after he had the stone all the interference in the world would be in vain. The demonic expression reappeared. "That is perfectly fair."

"Excellent." Fisk picked up the pen and went back to work. "Now leave."

Otto performed another submissive head bow and left. _The fat man won't know what hit him. _He chuckled to himself.

"Have yah seen Steph around? I wanna-"

The tentacles whipped around to glare at Mac with all four red eyes.

The scorpion felt a chill run down his spine when faced with the potential wrath of all of Otto's 'pets,' as Otto called them. The doctor himself turned around slowly, and the expression on his face was far less than friendly. However, it wasn't nearly as creepy as the 'looks' the tentacles had in their 'eyes.'

"Obsessive much?" Otto smirked. "I doubted you will make much ground if you keep throwing yourself at her like this. It is, in fact, rather pathetic."

Otto was clearly in one of his darker moods. Mac had seen him like this before. Even though Otto at home was generally shy and kept to himself, Otto in the field was arrogant and ruthless. It was field Otto, Doc Ock, that Mac was talking to just then, and Doc Ock had some kind of scheme up his sleeve. "Wha' business did yah have with Fisk?"

"We, my nitwitted dolt of a team mate, are going out on a job tonight. A job that far exceeds your numerous failed attempts at romance in importance. I do not expect you to understand the greater implications of this particular job, but I do believe that time would be better spent preparing yourself for our nocturnal engagement."

Mac eyed the octopus for a moment. He was positive Otto had woven at least one insult into that mini speech, but he didn't feel like taking the time to sort it out. So he simply asked, "When?"

Otto's face stayed hard as stone. "When I say." He turned dismissively. "Inform the others. I have things to which I must attend."

"An' wha', yah schedules suddenly so damn much more importan' than mine?" Otto stopped and smiled over his shoulder. It was the most chilling smile Mac had seen come from Octavius yet.

"If only you knew, Gargan. If only you knew." And with that he swept off down the hall, trench coat rippling in his wake.


	19. Needing Changes

FATR: Wow, LadyKayoss. My only reviewer. If I hadn't already dedicated a story to you, I would dedicate this chapter to you. Anyway, all of you enjoy this chip chip.

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Peter and Mary Jane sat cross-legged on the bed, a box of pizza open between them. Each of them held a slice, but at the moment Mary Jane was laughing so hard she had to drop hers back in the box. "The Vibrator? I can't believe it! Where do these people come from?"

Peter shrugged, smiling. "Some petty thug picks up some new technology and that some how automatically makes him a supervillain."

"I don't suppose he considered the greater implications of his name?"

This time Peter did laugh. "Well, it's still more threatening than Schitzoid Man or Egg Head. So, he's standing outside the bank and I'm thinking-" He was cut off by a rustle and a thump out on the fire escape. Whatever it was didn't set off his spider sense, but he was still afraid. What if some supervillain had found out his secret identity? The young lovers held each other closer as they eyed the silhouette moving against the curtain. It looked like a large man with some kind of pointed ears or some such thing.

"Let me! It's an emergency!" The figure rapped sharply on the window.

Peter looked to Mary Jane who shook her head, emerald eyes widened in terror. He turned back to the window and licked his lips. Then he summoned up all his courage and called out in his most authoritative voice, "Who are you?"

"I'm a friend of a friend... Listen, it is imperative that you let me in! I cannot talk out here, but... just please!"

Peter took one last look at his girlfriend. "My spider sense has never failed me, MJ," he whispered. When he received no response he moved to the window, still on guard. The youth threw open the curtains, pushed up the window, and stepped aside. The man who ducked inside wore black slacks and a black shirt under a white lab coat. His ears were pointed and fin like, his eyes a startling sea green. "Um..."

"Who are you?" Mary Jane finished.

Leo gave her a courteous bow. "I am Leo, my dear lady." He straightened up and turned to Peter. "Emma sent me. If you would please throw on the tights and come along, I will explain on the way."

_He knows I'm Spider-Man? Can I trust him? _"I don't know what you're talking about."

Leo groaned. Nothing was going to get done if Peter wouldn't level with him. "Yes, we know. I am a water demon, a friendly one I might add, from another dimension. This dimension, your dimension, is in huge trouble. We have to get to the World History Museum before Dr. Octopus and make sure a certain artifact remains secure. If you won't go along to help Emma and me, at least go along to stop the robbery."

"I can't, I promised MJ that-"

Leo pointed at the clock just as it flipped over to five thirty-six.

"Oh..." The boy was uncertain about this demon guy, though. Could anybody trust a demon? But he had admitted to being a demon, if he had been hiding something he wouldn't have admitted to being a demon. Though he could have expected Peter to think that and told him his true identity to lull the boy into a false sense of security. Still, if Emma really had sent him, he couldn't be all bad. There was no doubt in Peter's mind about Emma's purity. Besides, as Spider-Man it was his job to stop the robbery, demons and dimensions and... whatevers aside. Peter gazed at Mary Jane apologetically. She smiled reassuringly and nodded her permission. Peter beamed. "I love you, MJ. I'll be back as soon as possible."

Leo looked the other way and smiled to himself as the young couple kissed. _Ah, young love. Reminds me of my wife and myself. I can't wait to see her again._

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_I need to go outside and clear my head. That's all. It's just being in this house, this house is haunted, or something._ Stephanie pulled on her sweatshirt and made her way down the hall. Her fantasy, her dream, felt like a millstone around her neck now, now that it actually could happen. Before her main reserve had been not knowing what to do with her powers, but now she had some definite ideas. Oh, yes. She would no longer be a low-grade maid under Fisk's employment. No. She would be one of the elite, one of the powerful, one of the supervillains. It would be a... a promotion of sorts. People like Jenny wouldn't push her around. They wouldn't dare to whisper behind her back, ridicule her. That's what they had been doing since she started hanging out with those four, you know. Whispering, always whispering. They were all afraid of the supervillains, and fear breeds respect. Oh, yes, she wanted that respect.

Then she was afraid of these new feelings. She wasn't a power seeker. She just wasn't. That's why she needed to get out of the house and clear her head. Some how that painting girl had put these ideas in her head. It was crazy; it was paranoid. And the rumors hadn't bothered her before, had they? Or maybe they had but she had dismissed them because there wasn't much she could do about it.

"Hey, Stephanie!"

Stephanie looked up and saw Jason and Scott standing in the hall with the cleaning cart. Jason was waving at her and smiling. _See? I am just being paranoid_. She smiled back. "Hey, Jason."

"Are you busy?" Jason asked.

Stephanie immediately sensed some negative vibes in the air. She highly doubted she should respond, but for some reason she did anyway. "Not particularly..."

"I've got twenty bucks. What'll you do for twenty bucks?"

Stephanie knew she should just walk away before it got any worse, before she got to a point she would regret, but it was like someone else was dictating her actions. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"See? I told you she only takes it from supervillains," Scott interjected.

"So? I got raped up the ass with a radioactive dildo and now I have super penis powers," Jason grinned.

_Okay, so almost all of them are afraid of and respect the supervillains._ "All right, Mr. Immaturity, back up a minute. What is going on? Is this about some rumor I haven't heard yet?"

"Where else did you get that money this morning?" Scott asked.

Stephanie shook her head. "We were playing Indian Poker."

Scott snickered, "Yeah, yeah, whatever you want to call it. Jenny saw Scorpion in your room, and your shirt was off."

"He walked in on me while I was changing," Stephanie protested.

"Do you mean to tell us there are muties in the house and you don't keep your door locked?" Scott asked skeptically.

Jason put his arm around her shoulders. "Listen, we won't tell master Fisk about your little 'side job.' We fully support you, in fact."

Stephanie shoved him away. "You are sick. Sick, sick, sick!" She stormed off down the hall. _Relax, it's just two people. Three people if you count Jenny. God, if I could just... no, I don't need powers. I could probably get Mac to beat them up for me. I'd tape it too, so I could watch it over and over again and... No, I am not a violent person. It's just picture girl again. Get out of the house, clear my head, everything will be fine. Besides, if I sick Mac on them, it will just give them more amo for the rumors._

_But I could do something about it. I could have the power to hit back. I wouldn't have to turn the other cheek again. Even the supervillains push me around, like when I didn't want to give Otto the blood sample but he made me do it anyway and when I didn't want to take my shirt off in front of him but he pushed me into it anyway and then Mac convinced me to wrestle with him even though he knew I couldn't win and Max was going to treat me special because I'm so much more 'delicate' than them and they admitted that they prefer their own kind over us regular people because all I am is like a personal servant to them, to clean up Max's stupid mess when he broke his mirror for no goddam reason and he didn't say 'thank you' or 'sorry' or help or any shit... _

She stopped this train of thought, wondering how she had gotten to the idea that they thought of her only as a personal servant. The word 'friend' would be too extreme, but 'servant' was too far to the other extreme. She hung out with them, played games with them. So what if they used their powers to get the upper hand on her sometimes? They did the same thing to each other. And could one really expect a supervillain to display gratitude for something as mundane as cleaning up a broken mirror? Especially if the someone doing the cleaning was only a little servant girl like Stephanie. _There I go with that train of thought again. What is wrong with me?_ She reached the top of the stairs and heard insane laughter below.

Quinton's voice drifted up the stairs. "Max! You dumb fuck bastard!" This was followed by more laughter.

Stephanie nearly collided with Quinton as he dashed up the stairs. He was carrying the dome with the cape inside it under one arm. "What happened?"

"We have some stuff to do tonight," Quinton turned to yell over his shoulder, "but a certain little shit fucked up my costume!" He turned back to Stephanie. "And now I'm running late."

"Oh, take a pill, man!" Max called. "It'll wash off!"

"Just out of curiosity, what are you doing?" Stephanie asked.

"Supervillain stuff," he answered distractedly. "Hey, take care of this for me?"

"I..." She took the dome and the cape from him as he pressed them into her hands. "Sure." As he brushed past her she whispered, "I don't suppose I can go along."

Quinton stopped and turned. "It's... um... well you might get in the... I mean you might get hurt and..."

Stephanie stared at him for a minute then laughed a laugh that sounded too high pitched and hysterical to her. "You heard that? Nah, I was just kidding, thinking out loud, sarcastic, of course..."

He wrinkled his brow, started to say something, then shook his head and went on his way. _Girls are so weird. Must be that time of the month or something._

_Why did I say that? Idiot. I know I can't go along, I know they won't let me, and I know the exact and perfectly good reason why. Quinton started to say I might get in the way. I know he did. I doubt they really care that much if I get hurt or not. It's true, too, I would get in the way, I would get hurt, so why do I feel so bad?_ She continued down the stairs, deciding it was because he hadn't waited for her answer on the whole costume thing. It wasn't like she had anything going on tonight, but she was off duty and she could have had some engagement he didn't know about. Maybe even a hot date. _I don't, but I could have, he didn't know for sure. It's just them pushing me around again, isn't it? _She sighed as she passed the employees lounge. The door was open and she paused to watch the others. Some of them were starting a game of clue. She didn't really like clue, but she had to ask. She was at her wits end and she just had to know, had to disprove her paranoid notions, the ones picture girl had so obviously put into her head. "Can I get in on that game? After I drop this off?" The room seemed to fall silent as she waited for their answer. The background noise from the TV and the other people just faded away until it was only her and the four people around the clue board.

One of the girls finally replied, "Don't rush your self."

Stephanie nodded and stepped back into the hallway. There had been a definite undertone to the answer, one that indicated she wasn't really wanted there. She took a deep breath and kept walking. _No matter, I will just... AHG! THAT'S IT!_ She threw the dome down hard, hoping it would shatter, but it didn't. It wobbled and rolled, _Weebles wobble but they don't fall down_. It came to rest right side up on the floor and she saw what Max had done to it. There was a very cartoony yet strangely attractive female face drawn on it in black marker. The face stared at her, eyes wide and unblinking. Stephanie chuckled, hand clasped over her mouth. The chuckle escalated into pure all out laughter and she collapsed to her knees, arms hugging her aching stomach, knowing exactly what she had to do now.

Stephanie stumbled to her feet and turned back the way she had come, leaving the dome and the cape in the hall for someone else to deal with because it wasn't her territory anymore. As she passed the lounge she was vaguely aware that the group from before had already begun the game, but that didn't matter now, so she dismissed it. The painting room, that mattered. It was on the ground floor, in the hall that had master Fisk's conference room at the end. Her pace increased as she went and by the time she reached the marble floored hall she was running so fast her breath burned in her throat. She dashed into the room and stood right in front of the Mona Lisa. "I'm... ready..." she gasped. "I... want it..." The picture didn't even twitch. "I know you can hear me. Come on! I told you, I want it! Strength, power, everything!" Her shouts echoed uselessly and she collapsed to her knees, struggling to draw breath. "I've gone crazy. I'm nutty as a fruitcake. Call the men in white coats, master Fisk, 'cause this girl's got bees in her belfry and bats in her bonnet."

Ana stood at a computer bank in Otto's lab, watching the broken girl on the monitor with an amused smile playing across her face. "Something about that sounded backwards."

Stephanie slowly raised her head and saw the demonic girl smiling at her. The picture was different, though. The girl could only be seen from the waist up and the background was a lab of some kind. "Where are you?"

"Otto's lab. There is no going back, you know, once you accept my offer."

"Just tell me what I have to do."

Ana raised her hand and reached towards the screen, reached through the screen, and into the mini gallery where Stephanie knelt. "Take my hand."

The human girl gawked at the outstretched hand. There was a long silver claw at the tip of each deathly white finger. Stephanie rose to her feet and closed her hand around Ana's. Without a word of warning she was jerked forward into the painting. A chill passed over each inch of her body as she flew through the barrier. She hit the icy floor and grunted on impact. Stephanie lifted her head and glanced around the room. Cabinets, terminals, and implements gleamed at her, bathed in red light, but there was no sign of any other living form. She pushed herself off the floor, wondering what she was supposed to do now. The source of the red light was the first thing to draw her attention. Apparently Otto had left some of his mysterious work open. "I shouldn't look." Stephanie approached the monitor. "It's his private business, after all." Journals and books littered the tables closest to the active computer. "And he has a right to privacy." Stephanie slid one of the books towards her and opened it to the bookmark. There was a picture of a dragonfly on that page. "But his work has involved me at some point, whether it is this project or something else, in which case I should be allowed to know." The bookmark had something scribbled on it in loopy, almost illegible cursive. Stephanie brought it closer to the lit up screen so she could make it out better. It read:

_StephAnaDrag(?)_

_Drag?_ Stephanie looked back at the book. _Dragonfly, maybe?_ Stephanie felt a chilling breath on the back of her neck and turned to see painting girl, in full demonic glory, pointing to a shadowy corner. Her eyes were glowing blue in the dark. She was taller than Stephanie, and much more intimidating in person. With a gulp, Stephanie slid past her and followed her direction. It was a wall of lockers or safes of some sort. There was a group of four that especially caught her attention, though. They were labeled: "Quin," "Max," "Mac," and "Steph." Ones near these were labeled _Test 1, Test 2, _etc. There was also one tucked away in an inconspicuous corner labeled _Agent N._ It was this last one that Stephanie knew she was meant to open. The metal was almost cold enough to hurt as she fumbled pathetically with the lock. It wouldn't open. She snarled and jammed her palm hard against it. It whined and popped open. Stephanie didn't even stop to wonder at this. Wisps of icy vapor curled out of the locker and she waved them away to get a better look at the contents. There was a rack of test tubes inside. A shivering hand reached into the gap and withdrew one of the tubes of blood. It was labeled "Ana."

Ana put her hand on the human girl's shoulder. She jumped and turned around. Ana held up a syringe with a wickedly sharp needle on the end. "It's all up to you, now."

Stephanie took the syringe in a shaky hand. "Needles make me nauseous."

Ana smirked as she began to fade away. "Fine. Then remain an in-the-middle reject for the rest of your life. It's no business of mine."

Stephanie found herself alone once more. Her eyes flicked dubiously over the needle. "Don't wimp out now. You've come this far." She uncorked the test tube with her teeth and stuck the needle in, wondering how much she should take. Finally deciding on a random amount, she tapped the bubbles to the top and pushed the air out with the plunger. A fine spray of blood splattered across her hand but she didn't notice. Her stomach was tying itself up in knots as she put the tip of the needle against her skin. With a deep breath, she squinched her eyes shut and pressed forward. It didn't hurt as badly as she would have expected. She let out her breath and relaxed her muscles as she slowly applied pressure to the plunger. The blood felt like ice as it flowed into her, cooling everything it touched. She could almost trace its chilling course through her veins.

_Well, this isn't so bad, I guess. I wonder-_ She screamed out loud and her legs buckled. "Oh, god!" She clutched her stomach with one hand and propped herself up with the other, vomiting violently. Her body shuddered all over as she collapsed onto her back and rolled away from the puddle. She ended up on her stomach with her fingers clawing at the floor. It felt like there was something tearing at her back, forcing its way out of her shoulder blades. She screamed again but no one else in the house could hear her. _I'm dying! She tricked me! Oh, Jesus, God, I'm dying..._ The chill under her skin was turning into a numbness now, but this only intensified the nausea in her gut. She rolled off of her stomach and laid spread eagle, back arched. Her muscles tensed against the convulsions that racked her body but that only made it hurt more. It was like having a full body muscle cramp. There was a tearing sensation in the tips of her fingers. Distantly, she realized she wasn't breathing, but it didn't hurt not to breath. She didn't know if it was because every nerve in her body had stopped functioning or if it was because she was dying. It was essentially the same thing either way wasn't it? At least the pain stopped. Her eyes fluttered closed because she couldn't keep them open anymore. There was a sensation like she was being lifted out of her body. _Oh... dying... huh... HOLY SHIT!_

There was a sensation like a ten-ton weight being thrown down onto her, into her. She jerked upright, inhaling sharply and involuntarily. Her collapsed lungs burned at first, but each breath hurt less and less. Stephanie hadn't opened her eyes yet but there was too much happening internally for her to care about what she might look like now. There were new instincts whispering in her head from a new part of her brain. These desires were entirely alien to her, and yet not so alien. Hunger was the dominant feeling. She was starving in a way she had never starved before, but it wasn't a physical starvation. Before she could really reflect on this, though, there was a different sensation emerging. This started out as an internal concern, but ultimately drew her out into the physical world. She focused on an alien... motor function for lack of a better description and felt something in her upper back move. There was also a tugging and pain feeling issued from the new area of her mind.

Stephanie's eyes snapped open and she jumped up. The first thing she noticed was that the lab seemed brighter. There weren't any more lights turned on, the light from the computer just seemed brighter. She turned in a slow circle, seeking something that might serve as a mirror. There was a metal table, polished to gleaming perfection. _If I could only turn it vertical it would make a perfect full length..._ before she could even finish this thought the table flipped up on end. She gaped at what was revealed. "Is that..." The lips of the reflection moved with hers. Stephanie put her hand to her cheek and the reflection did exactly the same thing. "Oh my god... this is... shit, this it just..." Her eyes flashed radioactive green as she turned to admire her new body. "This. Is. Bitchin!"


	20. Murphy's Law

FATR: I LIVE! Wow. I haven't updated anything over here in such a long time! I'm so sorry! Please don't hurt me! I got distracted reading and writing Static Shock fanfictions! BUT! I am planning a nice long Static Shock fic that will in a large part feature Ultimate Otto and some tidbits from the ultimate story line. When I finish this one, and it looks like there will only be five more chapters left depending on how I write it, I will start that one. Actually, depending on my will power and attention span, the latter of which is obviously a two on a good day, I may start it earlier than that. But I digress... If any of you are still bothering to check here after all this time, I really owe all of you a solid of some sort: **Moonjava, daveykins, aleeock, LadyKayoss, **and **AgentSilver** are all awesome peeps! Anyway, without further delay, because we all know I have nothing to my name, chip chip nineteen!

X)O(X

The museum was still and dark. Two solitary figures met in the middle of the entry hall, locating each other via flashlights.

"Is your sector secure?" The first guard asked.

"Yeah. Yours?"

"Quiet as a church." The two men fell into step together. "Speaking of which, are you going to the Bingo game?"

Before the other guard could answer, the front doors were ripped right off their hinges and torn into splinters by what looked like four metal snakes. The guards drew their guns and turned to find themselves faced with not one, not two, not even three, but four super villains. The odds of a confrontation's outcome were all too apparent, so the guards elected to flee. No dice, though. The one that looked like he had a starfish plastered to his face landed in front of them and grabbed their heads.

"Go into the light, my children." Blue and white lightening illuminated the vast hall, snapping, crackling, and biting chunks out of the delicate crown molding. The wreak of baking flesh filled the hall as the charred remains of the men fell at the human battery's yellow booted feet. The others were pouring through the doors and fanning out, Mac skittering up one wall and disappearing around a corner. Max decided to break down the nearest wall and investigate what rare treasures it may conceal.

Otto stood still the front hall for a while after the others had spread out, contemplating his next move. Unlike the others, he had a very specific target in mind. Where to begin the search? That was the question. He closed his eyes and listened, letting go of all logic and reason, in much the same manner as when he mediated, until there was nothing but his subconscious. His left foot moved forward, then his right, then his left again. Before he knew it he was walking, physically blind yet completely secure in the knowledge that he was headed in the right direction. When his feet stopped he opened his eyes and slid his glasses down his nose. The glass cases shone like ice in the light filtering through the high windows. His attention was suddenly snatched to a wall case lined with exquisite jewelry. Any one of the trinkets in there would make a lovely souvenir, but the bauble on the right end of the bottom case was his prime target. A triumphant grin spread across his face as his actuators propelled him over to the case. His fist smashed the glass and closed greedily over the fifth and final gem. It looked like a diamond, but the deeper into its depths he peered, the more colors he saw. They swirled like a vortex, glowing with an ethereal light. They sucked him in, devouring his mind...

"Hey, tha's pretty cool, doc."

Otto was jerked out of his hypnosis. He clutched the stone possessively to his chest and eyed Mac over his shoulder. "It's mine," he snarled.

"Wha' is i'?"

"That is none of your concern, because it is mine."

Mac put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I didn' say I was gonna take i'."

Otto backed away from the case as Mac approached it, still eyeing the green arachnid warily. Mac smashed the case and began stuffing the jewelry into bags. The scientist turned to survey the rest of the room. Now that he had what he came for, it didn't matter what else he took, as long as Fisk found it sufficient payment. He began smashing cases with his actuators and stuffing their contents into bags. "Success is imminent, my love," he whispered, clutching the stone to his heart. The wall behind him exploded and Max came flying through, propelled by some unseen force. He hit the ground on his back and skidded to a stop two yards from the octopus. He sat up slowly and put his hand to his head. "What happened?" Otto asked in a businesslike tone.

"The fly-eater showed up, with some guy in-"

Max didn't need to finish his sentence because at that moment a black and white shape stepped through the gap. He held a small leather pouch in one hand and wore a flowing white lab coat.

"Dr. Octavius, we need to talk," the man commanded.

"What might we possibly have to discuss?" Otto asked.

"About taking things that don't belong to you," Peter, in all his red and blue pajamaed glory, threw in as he crawled through the hole and sat on the wall over Leo's head.

They were after the stone. He didn't know how he knew, but that didn't matter. The stone belonged to him, he needed it. He'd rather die than give it up. "You will never get your sticky fingers on my stone, you malodorous arachnid-"

"You don't realized what you're messing with, Dr. Octavius," Leo warned. "I know you're a reasonable man, so if we could just-"

Otto lost his patience. The blade slid out of the bottom tentacle with a soft _shink_. "To reiterate, we have nothing to discuss." He stabbed for the man in the white coat. The tension in the room broke and his two comrades attacked as well, each targeting the wall-crawler.

Peter back flipped up the wall onto the ceiling, Electro's thunder bolts blasting a trail through the elaborate stone dome behind him. Scorpion followed him, circling around and cutting him off. Peter halted bare inches from the predator. This falter in progress was just long enough for Electro to get a blast at him. Peter dropped from the ceiling, shocked both figuratively and literally. However, he recovered quickly, shot a web line, and swung in a wide arc that brought him back to knock Mac off the ceiling.

Meanwhile, Leo threw the small leather pouch at the attacking tentacle. The pouch exploded on contact, knocking the machine's attack off course. The blade withdrew and the head closed. It shook off the attack and made a whining sound. But they could be sentient, could they? The other three tentacles darted out to attack, but Leo teleported away. Instead, they left three large holes in the wall. Leo reappeared behind Dr. Octopus and reached into one of the many hidden pockets in his white lab coat. Leo's hand closed around a vile of knock out gas. "Hey, doctor," Leo started, removing the vile from his pocket and he spoke. He was ready to snap it in the man's face as soon as...

Quinton saw what was going on and pulled a little teleportation trick of his own. Leo didn't notice the man appear behind him until Quinton sucker punched him in the back of the neck. The water demon grunted and the vile was thrown across the room to shatter harmlessly against a wall.

Leo whipped around to face this new attacker. He went for a fire ball blast but Mysterio spun around, cocooning himself in his garish purple cape and disappearing.

Otto took note of the situation. Max and Mac were occupying the spider. The nameless man who appeared to be either a chemist or an alchemist was occupied with Mysterio. This was good. Otto had to escape with the gem, even if he escaped with nothing else. The bottom two tentacles launched him upwards. Simultaneously, the top two shot up to rip a hole through the ceiling to the second floor. Otto climbed through and repeated the process again on the second floor, and on the third, tearing his way through to the roof.

Leo and Peter both spied Otto preparing for his charge for the roof, but neither of them could get there right away. He was the one Leo had to stop. It didn't really matter what the other three did, as long as they didn't get in the way. The alchemist ran for the physicist, reaching into his pocket for the stunner he had planned to use on Ana. Without warning, Mysterio popped up in front of him in a swirl of glittery smoke. Leo moved to dodge around him and nearly ran into a second. He looked around and spied a third, a fourth, a fifth... they all seemed to rise up out of the floor. Each stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking him in on all sides. Dr. Octopus was on the second floor and heading for the third. From there, it would be an easy shot to the roof. There was no time to locate and deal with the real Mysterio. The only way to escape appeared to be up, so that was the way Leo went. He crouched down slowly, eyeing his attacker(s). There was a beat. Quick enough to be a blur, Leo launched himself into the air, straight through the gap in the ceiling.

Max saw what the man in the lab coat was up to and sparks began to fly around his body. Spider-Man swung towards him intending to take him down with a kick to the head. The human battery grabbed the bug's ankles, jolted him with all the juice he could muster, and swung in the general direction of the nearest wall. Shortly, Max, surrounded with a bubble of electricity, lifted off the ground and shot through the holes. He felt the chilled night air caress him as he rocketed out through the roof. There he found Otto in a standoff with the stranger.

Leo could sense the power of the stone around Dr. Octopus. He knew the man had it, and he had to get it back no matter what. There was no longer any room for caution. The demon cast a series of small explosive discs at the doctor, catching him at least five times on the body despite the tentacles' efforts to deflect the harmful projectiles. One of these struck the man's wrist and with a cry of pain he released the stone. It clattered across the roof as Leo drew it towards him, but a tentacle whacked him in the side of the head. It wasn't hard enough to do much physical damage to the demon, but it did disrupt his concentration. As Leo's head jerked to the side, the stone skittered several yards to the left.

By now, the other two had joined them on the roof top, followed shortly by Spider-Man. Max had fired wildly on the web-head as he burst from the opening. The arachnid's agility didn't fail him even then. He back flipped out of the way, leading the bolts to strike Quinton instead. Max faltered in surprise and embarrassment for only a moment, but it was long enough for Spider-Man to web Electro hand and foot.

Mac found himself torn between his teammates, trying to decide which to assist first.

"Get the gem!" Otto barked.

The sheer strength of will behind the order forced Mac to obey, even before he could stop to actually think about the actual nature of the command. He dove for the stone. The stranger and Spider-Man both saw this at the same time.

"No!" Leo called and threw a disc at Scorpion. He caught him in the shoulder, effectively knocking the green arachnid's aim askew. However, the super-villain had been so close to the edge of the building, the blast combined with his clumsiness to send him tumbling over the edge.

Everyone began moving at once.

Peter dove towards the edge, ready to grab the man with a web line. He had never, ever just stood by and allowed someone to die on his watch, and he wasn't about to start. It didn't matter if this mutant was a crook or not. Just because he had superhuman powers, it wasn't Peter's place to judge who should live and who should die.

Max blasted out of his bonds. His only intention was saving his teammate.

Quinton, sure that the now airborne Max could reach Mac in time, was rushing at Spider-Man. His full intention was to use this unexpected distraction to launch a sneak attack on the web-head.

Otto didn't care about his teammates, and he didn't care about Spider-Man. All he cared about was that stone, and the only thing that mattered about the stranger was his insistence on being in the way. The two scientists found themselves in a race to reach the stone first. Otto had to work without the aide of his now damaged tentacles. He really needed to look into what substance the stranger had used to blast him. It had really been most effective... No time for that now. Just go. Go, go, go!

Leo could see Dr. Octopus catching up to him out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps the out of shape man could have beaten him if his tentacles hadn't been out of commission, but there was no way a mortal like that could outrun a demon. Leo poured on the speed, snatching up the gem and continuing right off over the edge. _I've got to get this out of here. I've got to... what was that!_

The wind whistled past his Mac's ears. Up on the roof, he could see a light burst as Max's powers crackled to life. He even saw the web-head rushing for the edge. Huh. What a joke. The hero trying to save the villain. As Mac watched, knowing full well the ground was rushing up to meet his back and trying not to notice, Quinton tackled Spider-Man from behind. Yeah, kill Spider-Man. Good job. There was no need to worry about his falling comrade, was there? Mac braced himself for the impact. However, what he felt instead was a sharp and sudden tug under his arms. Then he was rocketing upwards, back onto the roof. Just at that moment the stranger in the white coat dove over the edge. Mac saw his eyes widen in shock as they passed. Mac looked up to see what was holding him but he moved too slowly. It deposited him on the roof then disappeared over the side after the stranger.

Leo's stingray like wings ripped through the back of his coat and filled with air. He soared into the night sky, aware that there was someone or something following him. He tucked the stone securely into one if his many latent pockets and turned abruptly to face this attacker. She was a girl in a shimmery blue-green mask. Her eyes glowed a soul-piercing radioactive green and her brown hair whipped wildly around her face in the wind. She stopped, too, hovering vertically about a yard away from the demon. Her four gossamer wings whirred furiously. Aside from the mask, she wasn't really wearing a costume. She had black leather pants, black high heeled boots, and a black tank top. Over the tank top she wore a shear shirt the same color and sheen of her mask. The water demon raised an eyebrow. "Just how many mutant bugs are there tearing around this city?"

The green eyes narrowed and the iridescent blue-green lips tugged down into a frown. "My name is Dragonfly, and you have something we want."

_The stone!_ Leo scowled back. "I highly doubt that."

Dragonfly buzzed forward suddenly. She felt a rush of joy when the water demon jumped back. On the roof she could hear Spider-Man fighting for his very life, and losing ground quickly at that, but that didn't matter. "I can feel it on you. Give it to me and maybe I won't kill you." She extended a hand toward the demon.

Leo eyed the hand. No mortal, mutant or not, was a match for him, but this one did have a lot of guts. "All right." He reached into his coat. As he did so, her mouth spread into a grin that revealed razor-sharp fangs. They were a lot like Ana's... But this obviously wasn't Ana. She had the wrong aura signature. _All the Nasarians except Ana and Emma are dead. She's just a mutant. She's hardly a threat._ His hand closed around the object he had been seeking. "Here." He shot backwards suddenly, simultaneously hurling a small leather pouch at her. It combusted in the air between them. He noticed she was shocked and surprised by this trick, but it didn't seem to faze her much. She somersaulted over the flames and flew in a circle around them, bunching them into a neat little ball which she brought to hover between her hands.

"I was warned of your tricks, Armand. There's nothing you can throw at me that I can't take."

_How does she know my name?_ Leo thought just before dodging the ball of fire. _Okay, I have to think fast. Maybe she's more than just a mutant, but everything has a weakness. What is her weakness? _He took off with her close behind him. They spiraled down the building, him trying to think as he dodged the balls of green light she lobbed at him. _Her name is Dragonfly. She has dragonfly wings. Hm. They're beautiful, aren't they? Dragonfly wings, that is, but so fragile... Perfect! That's it! If she follows me that far... _Leo changed course suddenly and rocketed straight up, leaving the roof far behind. She adjusted her course accordingly. Clouds closed around him, blocking his view and leaving little kisses of dew across his skin and clothing. He couldn't tell if she was still following him or not, but...

Dragonfly was waiting for him when he burst free of the lake of clouds. Barely faltering in pace, he redirected himself into a vertical dive. Ha! There was no way Leo would escape her that easily. She followed close behind him. There was no sensation quite like that of the wind raking its chilled fingers through her hair. Next chance she found she would have to take her new wings for a joy ride, but business came first. Her benefactor had requested the stone Leo held, and the stone she would receive.

The ground rushed up to meet Leo at a breathtaking pace. One final glance over his shoulder told him his pursuer had taken the bait hook, line, and sinker. With an agility and reaction time only the supernatural possess, Leo spread his wings to full extent. They strained against the velocity of the dive. Leo felt his clothing brush the asphalt as he pulled up. The force was tremendous, enough to snap the delicate wings of a bug, right? And if not, maybe she would fail to change direction in time and end up road-kill. Anything was possible, and either outcome would keep the gem safe. It was time to return to the roof to help P- He cried out in pain as something small and fast dipped under his wing and clipped his shoulder on its way by. His hand clamped over the wound and his eyes traveled up to see Dragonfly grinning down at him. The edge of one of her wings dripped his blue blood.

"Smooth trick, but not quite good enough," she taunted. She was really trying to hide her rising doubts. He really had almost turned her into road goo. Her shoulder blades were on fire from putting on the breaks so quickly and unexpectedly. Perhaps there was more to this supervillain thing than she had originally thought. One thing was for sure. She had been lucky her wings had been as strong as she guessed, but she would be much more careful from here on out. At least, she would be cautious until she had the time and safety to find out just what her new body was capable of.

She was stronger than he gave her credit for, but he wouldn't underestimate her again. The water demon unleashed his entire arsenal on his attacker. Ice, an acidic cloud, he even tried to render her wings useless with a water bomb. She spun off and dodged the attacks in a way that oddly resembled a kind of dance. Humans called it ballet.

There was a lull in the attacks and Dragonfly stopped to rest and regain her bearings. She was dizzy, she had less endurance than she had thought, and she really had no idea how to fight for real. She had just figured once she had her powers she would know exactly what to do and when to do it. Coming out here was apparently a bit of a mistake. But she had saved Mac all on her own, hadn't she? And to show her fear at this point would be suicide. She set her jaw and tried to think instinctually, because that's all she had right then. There was power surging through her body. She knew she could do more than simply hurl energy orbs, but she didn't know how to access the rest of her powers. She was sure there had to be some strength/agility/endurance thingy somewhere._ No real time to find it now, though._ She dodged under another attack from the demon, Leo. In the air she could move just fine, because she had practiced on the way over, but she had no idea what she would do in hand to hand ground combat. For now she would continue this little dance of Leo chasing her away from him, then turning to flee with the gem, then turning to fight her off again. They moved backwards and forwards like this for what seemed like eternity, spiraling ever higher above the roof.

Dragonfly pulled back deep into the new part of her brain, seeking advice. There she found the power she wanted. She didn't know what it was, but she knew it was the one she wanted. She drew on it, sucking every ounce of energy out of that space. It collected in her hands as she shot past Leo and leveled off above him. His eyes widened in surprise at her sudden appearance. Without thinking, she placed the palm of her right hand on the back of her left and pressed her left palm against his chest. The green energy exploded out of her hands, blasting him backwards. His back collided with the roof and, with a sickening crunch, he continued down through all three floors and into the basement. She was about to follow him, but she was suddenly overwhelmed with this all consuming emptiness. It was a hunger like nothing she'd ever experienced before. Dragonfly could barely keep her altitude as her head dipped and swam, graying her vision. It was no good. She had to return to base. _You're stupid for coming out here. Stupid, stupid._ She berated herself with these thoughts as she winged towards home.

Leo lay on his back, immobilized by temporary shock. No. She definitely wasn't a mutant, but she couldn't be a Nasarian either. Could she? If she was he had to get up and get going quickly. He staggered to his feet, wobbled, and would have fallen if a bruised and battered Peter hadn't appeared suddenly to catch him.

"Are you all right?"

"I'll live," Leo grumbled, stumbling for the basement door. "We've got to get out of here, now! Before they come after the stone." As he ran, he fumbled in his pocket.

Almost right on cue, Otto dropped through the hole made by the stranger's fall. "Give it to me!" He snarled desperately and rushed the two do-gooders with the furry of a hell spawned beast. His tentacles snapped and writhed with his furry. If he didn't get that stone, that would be it for him, him and Rosie. She wouldn't slip through his fingers again, not that easily. The tentacles stretched in preparation to coil around his two fleeing victims, the blade shooting out to slice and dice them. Whether it was necessary or not, he would slice and dice them.

Leo's fingers finally closed around the vile he'd been seeking. He grabbed Peter's arm and smashed the vile on the floor, praying the tentacles wouldn't grab them before the spell took effect. It was his last vile. He couldn't pull this off again. He and Peter were engulfed by the bitter smelling blue fog. Leo held his breath, but realized, as he heard the young mortal choke, that he had forgotten to warn Peter to do the same.

Otto dashed into one side of the cloud and came out the other with nothing but an armful of mist. He whipped around as the fog cleared, revealing the octopus' state of utter aloness. Oh, this wasn't good. No, this didn't bode well at all. Excusing himself for the vulgarity: _Screw Fisk. Ana will have my head. I know she will... _He fell to his knees in despair. _What now? There's nothing left to do but return home and face the music, I guess... _

X)O(X

FATR: Chapter 20? Hotdang! Heehee, I really can't wait to see who's still reading this...


	21. You Have Some Explaining to Do

FATR: First, I will give a brief recap, and reading it is optional.

**Thus far**: Ana told Otto she would bring Rosie back to him if he collects all five stones and does this spell for her. She has also been using him as a source of energy in return for information about her and her people, the Nasarians. Ana's been trying to kill her sister Emma for millennia, but Emma won't stay dead and she's mentally incapable of fighting Ana back. Enter Leonis Del Armand, the water demon who wants to help Emma destroy Ana. Stephanie is a maid in Fisk's house. Steph made friends with the supervillains and was ostracized by her peers for it. Tired of being in the middle, she turned to Ana for help. I hope this recap has been helpful.

I don't own anything except Ana, Stephanie, and Emma. Leo was created by my pal Bill, and any other major characters are property of Marvel. I don't own shit, and you'll get squat if you sue, so don't try. Enjoy the chip chip...

X)O(X

Otto slunk down the stairs the next morning, actuators thunking heavily on the stairs. He didn't care that each step left tears in the carpet and prints in the elegant marble. Ana hadn't shown herself yet, but when she did... When she did, Fisk's anger at anything Otto had or hadn't done wouldn't measure up in the remotest sense. It was like comparing a tsunami to a sun shower. Otto just... stopped caring... about everything... Everything except himself and Ana and Rosie, at any rate.

"Morning, doc!" Max beamed brightly as Otto entered the kitchen. It had been a good night, or so Max felt. After all, the bug and the freak in the lab coat had let them all get off essentially scot-free. They'd escaped with quite a haul, really. Fisk would take half of it, but Max wouldn't let that get him down. Otto, however, looked terrible. _More terrible than usual_, Max corrected himself. What on earth was wrong with him? Life was too short to be depressed. Sure, the job hadn't gone perfectly, not by a long shot, but none of them had died or anything. Max frowned. It was an expression that looked strangely foreign on his face. "What's with you, Mr. Mopey McMoperson?" Otto simply jerked open one of the cupboards with an actuator. He wasn't nearly as careful and controlled as usual. In fact he almost ripped the door clean off. "Dude, seriously, what is your malfunction? I mean, little Spideykins got the thrashing of his life last night. Doesn't that..." Max trailed off as Otto glared at him. He couldn't see the scientist's eyes, but he could feel the glare burning through him.

"_Not_ today, Maxwell." Otto jerked a mug down with his human hand and went to get coffee. Sleep had been mighty elusive last night. The doctor had been terrified of waking up to find Ana looming over him with a knife or something worse. It had been forever since the scientist had worried about monsters in the dark, especially because the light hurt his eyes, but now... He sighed. Was there really any point in eating? Or drinking, for that matter? Well, there might be a need for drinking, but not unless it involved something heavily laced with alcohol.

Max was taken back by the use of his full name. His euphoric demeanor evaporated and his eyebrows knitted together with concern. "You wanna talk?"

"No," Otto snarled. Then he sighed, keeping his back to Max. "The arachnid and his friend escaped."

_Is that what this is about? Since when was he so _hellbent_ on destroying Spider-Man? I mean, I know he hates him and all, but this much?_ "So did we," Max pointed out. "There'll be other fights." He watched Otto wilt, almost literally. His shoulders drooped, his head hung, and all of his tentacles, even the top two, dropped below waist level. If Otto was so depressed he had succeeded in depressing his tentacles, then the matter must've been more pressing than a simple hatred for the wall-crawler. He turned and trudged across the room, collapsing into a chair next to Max.

Otto slid the untouched newspaper to him from the center of the table. "I wish that were true," he sighed heavily, wondering if he would live that long. The newspaper wasn't being read, he just wanted to look busy so no one would talk to him. It worked, to an extent. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Max start to speak and then change his mind. Just then, Quinton strolled in chattering loudly with Mac, and Otto was pleased to be forgotten, if only for the time being.

"So what're you going to do about it?" Quinton was asking.

"Do about i'?" Mac stared like Quinton had lost his mind. "Wha' is there tah do? I don' even know who she is."

"Who?" Max asked, looking from one super-villain to the other.

Mac was about to answer when Stephanie breezed into the kitchen. Her blue satin robe swirled around her feet as she swept past them and made a beeline for the cupboards. She was starving like she couldn't believe, like she didn't even know was possible. Despite her hunger, there was an ear-to-ear grin splitting her face. "Morning, boys," she sang gleefully. She flung open the cupboard in manically joyful parody of Otto's earlier action. "I see last night wasn't a total disaster." She chose a new box of frosted cherry poptarts and practically skipped back to the table. Stephanie turned the chair on the other side of Max backwards and sat down, straddling the back of it.

"We totally kicked the web-head's ass," Max grinned proudly.

Stephanie tore into the first silver packet and took a bite out of both pastries at once. "Yeah?" She asked around a mouthful of food, studying the red sprinkles on the pink frosting. She swallowed and asked absently, "You kill him?" She moved her eyes to Max as she took another big bite.

"Nah, not this time," Max shrugged. "But we gave him a hell of a lot to think about."

"You should of seen it, Steph," Quinton bragged from behind the open refrigerator door. "I caught him from behind and dropped him with a right hook. It was..."

"Totally sweet?" Max asked.

"Fuck, yeah."

"I clipped 'im with m' tail and slid 'im 'cross the roof," Mac jumped in, joining them at the table.

"Across the roof?" Max laughed. "Dude, that was five, maybe six feet, tops."

"Fuck yah an' yah momma," Mac grumbled and took a bite out of his bagel.

"Hey, my mother was a good woman," Max protested, pretending to be more offended than he felt.

"Yeah," Quinton laughed. "In bed."

Otto set his jaw, forcing himself to tolerate the childish banter. He wanted to lash out at someone, anyone, really. His pets weren't exactly being a restraining factor in that department, either. "Juvenile delinquents, the lot of you," he muttered into his cup just before taking a sip.

"What'd you take from the museum?" Stephanie asked, ripping into the second silver pouch.

"Not much," Quinton shrugged. "Some gold coins and stuff. There was this diamond the size of..." He trailed off. "How'd you know where we went?"

"I read about it this morning."

Max cocked his head. "You weren't here when I got up."

"I know. Master Fisk called me back up stairs to take care of some stuff."

Otto raised an eyebrow. "What manner of 'stuff' would that be?"

Stephanie scowled at the eight-limbed scientist. "Someone puked in the rec room, okay? Fuck it, goddam third degree..." She stuffed the rest of the poptarts into her mouth and ripped into the third package.

Quinton suddenly smirked and elbowed Mac in the ribs. "Hey, tell her what else happened last night."

"Screw off," Mac laughed.

Stephanie smiled at the arachnid next to her. His ears were pink. Was he blushing? He looked like he was about to blush. "What happened?"

"Mac's got a giiirlfriend," Quinton teased in a singsong voice.

"No, I don'," Mac snapped. He turned to Stephanie to explain. "I go' knocked off the buildin an' this chick with wings caught me."

Stephanie smirked and started on the fourth packet of poptarts. "A girl, huh? Was she cute?"

"Didn' getta good look a' 'er," Mac admitted. His cheeks felt hot and he hoped he wasn't blushing.

"She wasn't bad," Quinton shrugged. "I'd do her."

Max shook his head. "You're a slutty blond, Quin, you'd do anybody."

"You're getting on my last nerve, sparky." But Quinton was smiling.

"So, Mac..." Stephanie grinned teasingly. "What about it? Would you pursue her?"

"I don' know anythin about 'er. I wouldn' even know where tah start lookin for 'er."

"But if you did, you would, wouldn't you?" Max laughed.

Mac had to laugh too. "But I don', so i' don' matter."

Otto watched Stephanie pluck the last packet of poptarts out of the box and rip into it. Her and the others started laughing about something but that didn't matter. He scanned the article about the robbery then let his eyes flick back up to Stephanie. His pets knew when people lied, and Stephanie was lying about reading the paper. He would've known that, anyway, because it was untouched when he picked it up. But why was she lying? "Stephanie." His voice was harsh and commanding. It actually made her jump.

Stephanie's heart leaped into her throat at the tone of Otto's voice. She turned a wary eye to him. "Yes?" Her voice wasn't much less confrontational than his, only hers was defensive where his was offensive.

"Who wrote the article?"

"What?" Stephanie blinked. "It's right there in front of you, why are you asking me?"

"Just answer the question."

"I..." Stephanie floundered. "I don't know. It's not like I have a fucking photographic memory or something."

That was a fair defense, Otto had to admit. He sucked on his teeth while he thought. There had to be something he could catch her with, some small detail that she'd be able to remember but wouldn't know just by reading about it. "Which one of us didn't try to save Mac when he fell?"

Stephanie just stared at him. "Have you finally gone over the edge, Otto? Because you're talking like a fucking psychopath."

The others went silent and stared at the unfolding scene. They knew she wasn't afraid of any of them, but she had never spoken to any of them like that.

Of course, she was on the defensive, so he couldn't ask her something that obviously wouldn't be in the article. He knew she wasn't a complete idiot. That may have caught Mac or Max, but not her. There was one more trap he could try. It was another simple one, but the simplicity of its nature would likely be its greatest strength. "Perhaps I have, and perhaps I am. Just humor me with an answer to this last little inquiry, hm?" When she didn't protest, he continued. "Of what is the photograph for the article?"

Stephanie shook her head. "You really have lost it..."

"Answer specifically."

"If I do, will you quit pestering me?"

"My word is my bond."

Stephanie growled but thought about it anyway. "It's a bird's eye picture of the hole in the roof."

Otto tossed the paper down for her to see. "It's an interior picture of smashed display cases."

Stephanie glared at him and reached for another pouch of poptarts. "So?" She snapped.

Otto's eyes moved to the box. "You're out of poptarts."

Stephanie blinked and stared into the empty box. She hadn't realized she'd eaten all of them. Her eyes met the obsidian circles across from her. There was her own reflection, and something in her eyes made her look like a trapped animal.

"What's going on?" Max asked. He was receiving uncomfortable vibes from both of them.

Otto contemplated the girl. She was wearing a pajama set, a blue pajama set, with the robe open over it. "You cold?"

"Christ's testicles, just leave me alone, you eight-limbed freak!" Stephanie jumped up to find some more food. She couldn't believe it. She'd eaten an entire box of poptarts and she was still starving. Would it ever go away?

"You're irritable." Otto raised an eyebrow. "Long night, hm?"

Stephanie was irritable, but she resisted the urge to snap, 'No duh.' She didn't want to encourage him with a response. Just what did he know, anyway? Or what did he think he knew? She heard a strange clicking sound behind her and knew instantly it was one of his pets, possibly two. Before she could react, she felt a cold breeze whip down her back and the robe was gone. She cried out and jerked around, but it was too late. Her wings folded tighter behind her as she tried to sink backwards through the wall. If only she could. That would've been cool on its own, but she couldn't stand the weight of all those eyes on her. Max had a twitching grin on his face, like he wanted to laugh, knew it would be inappropriate, but was still thinking about laughing anyway. Mac looked pleasantly surprised, even though he seemed to be trying his damnedest to hide it. Quinton just looked shocked, and suddenly became very interested in the table top when she looked at him. Otto, though, his expression was the worst. She could deal with Quinton's embarrassment (hell, she would've laughed right along with Max) and she was used to Mac's clumsy flirting, but Otto... He didn't look mad, exactly, but he didn't look very happy, either. The silence seemed to last for hours, even though she knew that was impossible.

Max just couldn't keep it in any longer. It was impossible, and screw it all if it was inappropriate. He laughed out loud. He didn't just laughed, he cackled, wildly and insanely. Even he wasn't clear on just what it was he was laughing about, but he attributed at least some of it to Mac and Quinton's earlier, oblivious chatter. His laughter cut through the silence like a knife. The awkwardness only made him laugh harder. He just couldn't help it.

Max's laughter seemed to come from far away and underwater as Stephanie continued to stare into Otto's eyes. The other two were glaring at Max, now, but Otto wouldn't break eye contact. Even his actuators were watching her now. "I..." She trailed off, wondering if she really could explain. Then she scowled, wondering if she really did owe anyone an explanation at all. Well, Otto might deserve an explanation, but she didn't want to lower herself by justifying her actions to him. She deserved these powers, didn't she? A voice whispered in her head that maybe Otto could figure out how to deal with this insatiable hunger. He might even know about it all ready, and have a plan all worked out. She snarled and pushed the voice away. Finally, her eyes broke away from Otto and glared daggers at Max. "Oh, shut up, you half-witted twit!"

Max stopped and blinked at her. First she'd called Otto a psychopath and now she was calling Max names? It wasn't like her. "But... you... it... how... how?"

Otto pushed himself up from the table and made his way to the kitchen door. For the time, his depression and self-pity were forgotten, forced to the background. "We are going downstairs, Stephanie." When she didn't move he stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Now."

"No." Stephanie crossed her arms like a stubborn child. Otto gave her the same not-quite-angry-but-still-not-happy look.

"I'm not angry. You need to follow me, for your own well-being."

"Are you threatening me?"

Otto struggled to maintain his patience. "I'd never threaten you. You're in over your head, my dear, though you have yet to realize it, and I'm hoping to help."

"I can deal with this myself! I'm not just some... some delicate little half-brained creature that you need to protect!"

Where on earth had that come from? Otto growled and whipped around. This morning was bad enough without this development. "Apparently you are because anyone with half a brain would possess enough common sense to not meddle with her DNA! Especially if she hasn't the faintest notion of just what it is she's tampering with!"

Stephanie realized that was all too true, at least the last bit of it. She had no idea what she'd injected into herself. Picture girl had told her to do it, and she had done it. Was it really something so dangerous as to make Otto react like this? The cocky, on top of the world feeling she'd woken up with gave way to a twinge of fear, but that only made her even more angry. She was sick of Otto being right all the time. "What makes you so sure I didn't know exactly what I was doing?"

"Because if you had known, you wouldn't have done it."

There was something cold in his voice that terrified her. What had that stuff been? Who exactly had that other girl been? What had she done to herself? What if... "I'm not going and that's the final word!"

"Is it, now?"

Otto's voice was dangerously calm but she didn't care. Her wings whirred to life behind her, lifting her into the air. "Yes, it is. You think you can handle that, Dr. Smartass?"

"No." His tentacles flew at her. He'd drag her down there by force if that's what it would take to talk sense into her. They definitely couldn't talk in front of the others. Her powers hadn't been with her long enough for her to use them to their full extent, at least he hoped not. Apparently she didn't know how to use them just yet, because she merely dodged three of his tentacles and threw a green energy orb at the forth one. It recoiled, hissing in his head. The other three came at her again, but she ducked and twirled away again. From the looks of it, she didn't really know how to fight, either. Her movements weren't clumsy, exactly. It was like watching a dance. Perhaps that was because she was using something an awful lot like ballet. He admired her creativity, using her knowledge of dance to fight, but him and the others were seasoned fighters. They knew all of the tricks.

Now, Otto didn't know if she'd take a crack at him (his human self) with her powers or not. She was in such an unstable state, he didn't want to risk it. Instead, he herded her into a corner and boxed her in with his tentacles. She tried to fire on his pets again, but it was very apparent that she was low on power. His top left actuator continued right through the blast and latched over her chest. Stephanie struggled and kicked but it didn't do much good.

"Put me down, you bastard!"

"That language is entirely uncalled for." He turned his back on his silent teammates without giving them so much as a backwards glance. With Stephanie struggling and beating on the actuator that held her captive, he strode across the immense entry hall. The upper left was complaining about its burden but Otto blocked it out. He had to think, which ticked him off because, for once, he wanted to do anything but think. Stephanie couldn't possibly have done this alone. There was just no way she could've gotten into his lab. He highly doubted Fisk was involved. Mac breaking into the lab was impossible, and it was improbable that Quinton had been involved. Just the expressions of those two when they found out... No. It wasn't either of them. Max might have short-circuited the door for her. As he drew near the door, his pets scanned it and returned that there seemed to be no damage. Otto frowned. Max wouldn't have had any motive for mutating Stephanie, anyway, at least not that he could see. Besides that, Max had always been relatively respectful of Otto's privacy. He wracked his brain, but the only other accomplice could have been... _But why on earth would Ana do this?_ He shook his head. This was a mess. Everything, lately, it seemed, had been a mess.

The door clanged shut behind them and Otto flicked on some lights. Stephanie glared at his back, finished thrashing for the time being. "Will you put me down, now? This isn't exactly comfortable." When those dark circles fell on her again, she knew this was far from over. "Listen, I'm sorry about the name calling, okay? I've been feeling like shit lately, and you talking like I didn't know what I was doing pissed m—"

"You didn't know what you were doing," Otto corrected. "I was aware of your little fantasy. I would have informed you of my discovery if I had deemed the procedure to be safe."

Stephanie eyed him suspiciously. "Oh, really? Somehow I doubt that."

He ignored her biting tone. "Believe what you like. That's beside the point anyway. Do you know what you injected yourself with?"

Stephanie sulked in silence for a while, deploring the idea of admitting he was right. He'd have to put her down eventually, right? "Not exactly..." She muttered, refusing to look at him.

"Do you realize what fate met the last person I injected with it?"

Stephanie felt that twinge of fear again, but this time she couldn't hide it. She was too worn out to be angry. "No..." She hesitated. "What... what happened?"

"She died," Otto responded flatly. "An excruciating death. I won't further frighten you with specifics. Now, do you promise to cooperate?"

Stephanie closed her eyes and sighed heavily. Maybe he wasn't trying to scare her, but he was definitely trying to make her uncomfortable. Making her doubtful about what she'd done would make her turn to him for help. That last thing was what he wanted. "Yes. What do you want me to do?"

Otto pulled two chairs over with this tentacles and set her down next to one of them. She turned it backwards and situated herself much the same way she had been seated in the kitchen. Otto took up a position across from her with his elbows on his knees and his wrists crossed in front of him. The scene was a less ominous parody of his interrogation of Jessica. "Do not feel threatened. I'm not trying to condescend you in any way. There are things about this," he gestured at her wings with a tentacle, "I've yet to figure out myself, and I'll freely admit it. I merely shrink from discussing such..." He stopped himself from saying 'personal.' "Matters in front of the three stooges."

Stephanie sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Look, I really am sorry about my earlier reaction. I don't know what came over me. I've been having all these... strange... I guess kind of paranoid thoughts ever since I talked to that girl..." Though he tried to hide it, she thought she noticed a flinch when she mentioned the girl. That didn't make her feel any better.

Otto tried to keep his voice steady and calm. "Did you catch her name?"

"I don't remember... She had black hair... What's going on? She said she was a friend of yours..."

So it had been Ana. What was she up to? "Tell me exactly what she told you."

"I..." Stephanie floundered. "I don't really remember... She said she'd heard my thoughts and could give me what I wanted."

"What was the catch?" Otto asked.

"Catch? No... No, she told me it was all about me and what I wanted."

Otto gave her a pained smile. "Yeah, she told me that, before she started making me pay for everything..." He cleared his throat and shifted into a position he hoped appeared more confident than his previous one. Thinking about what Ana could and would do to him only depressed him, and he couldn't be depressed now. Stephanie looked scared, and he felt his appearing just as if not more nervous wouldn't help. "So, you informed me you haven't been feeling well, lately. How so?"

Stephanie snorted laughter. "Well, doc, I'm starving and nothing seems to fill me up."

Otto smiled back. "That would explain the poptarts." He stood and moved to the desk where all of his notes and research were still spread out. "Any other discomfort? Did the transformation hurt? How much-"

"Hey, hey, slow down." Stephanie buzzed out of the chair and hovered off to his left, watching him curiously. "No, nothing else, really. The wings kind of get in the way, but that's something I'll just have to get used to, I guess. Sleeping'll be a bitch, though..." She took in the machine fused to his back. "I've got a whole new respect for you, now."

Otto shrugged. "Sleeping is low on my list of priorities, anyway, and you should be able to withdraw your wings."

Stephanie shook her head. "Don't you think I tried?"

"All skills are honed via practice and study. You couldn't dance the first time you put on ballet shoes, could you?" He glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

Stephanie saw his point and sighed. That was true, but she'd had dancing instructors. Who was going to teach her this? Well, Mac and Max probably figured out their powers on their own. If they could do it, so could she, though, as with dancing, there would probably be a few nasty spills along the way. "All right. So what about the hunger?"

Otto hesitated, reluctant to discuss this with her. It was like a father trying to have the birds and the bees talk with his daughter. "Well... How can I put this... You have a number of other abilities you haven't tapped yet, if the transformation is as complete as I suspect." He paused as he sifted through the things Ana had told him. He was glad for the distraction from his promised fate, even if it was only a small one. "Certain abilities require greater experience to use, and certain abilities require more energy than others. Are you following?" Stephanie folded her arms and nodded at him so he continued. "That energy isn't infinite. In simple terms, you're like a rechargeable battery."

"Like Max?" Stephanie asked.

The doctor chuckled. "Yes, only the kind of energy you'll probably be requiring isn't as simple to procure..." Otto trailed off, grateful he wasn't looking at her.

"Otto?" Stephanie tried to move where she could see his face, but he avoided her eyes. "What are you hiding from me?"

"You... Keep in mind this is speculation at this point, as I don't know what exactly was passed on and what changed when the bond occurred. You... You're new abilities are sustained by negative energy: pain energy, death energy, sexual energy... You understand."

Stephanie blinked at him. "Excuse me? What was that last one?"

"Not sexual energy, per se, but more like emotionless lust," Otto clarified.

"So... You're saying I have to go out and fuck someone?"

Otto shrugged, flipping absently through his notes. "As I understand it, death energy is the most potent of the three. Then again, it may not be as dark as all that. I'll have to run some tests, first."

Stephanie shrugged and grinned. "I could just go torture Scott and Jason to death then see what happens." Otto's head jerked up and sent her a puzzled look. "It's... It's a long story."

Otto's eyes returned to his journals, seeming to dismiss her comment. However, this change in her character was disconcerting. He'd known her to be so friendly and easy going in the past, but this morning she'd been defensive and callous. She herself had admitted to having strange and paranoid thoughts lately. Even though her last comment had been spoken with an air of playfulness, it seemed uncharacteristically violent. There was also something new and dark in her voice. It made her sound almost like...

"You've got some serious explaining to do, Octavius!" The malevolent voice echoed through the lab like thunder, vibrating the very souls of its occupants.

_Ana_. Otto forgot about everything around him, even Stephanie, as he turned to face the demonic woman behind him. She hovered near the ceiling, immense leathery wings beating furiously. Energy crackled in her fingertips and death glowed in her eyes. She didn't look angry, and she didn't look pissed. Ana was some terrible and nameless thing that went far beyond pissed. He'd been fearing this moment ever since the gem had slipped through his fingers. Here she was, ready to rip him to pieces with all the fury of Hell. The doctor's human mind was spiraling quickly into the same despairing pit it had occupied most of the night and morning. Fear may have allowed Ana to drop him right there if it weren't for his pets . They blossomed around him, ready to defend their creator. Otto was glad, for the first time in a long time, to have those voices whispering in his head. They calmed and encouraged him. He'd survive this, and if not? Well, he wasn't going down without a fight.

X)O(X

FATR: This feels like it's missing something. Any suggestions? Thoughts? Comments? You've read, now go light up my life with your review! Thank you so much!

**Phoenix Sheriden**: Well, for one thing it would've been nice of me to let Otto keep the stone. For another thing, if I let Otto keep it, I wouldn't be able to write the first scene of the next chapter /evil laugh/

**Moonjava**: Cool, because I can't wait to write more /grin/

**talkstoangels**: No, no, my dear. Kudos on you for not giving up on me. This one was a little more timely, I think, and hopefully the next one will be, as well.

**LadyKayoss**: Your loyalty makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, as did your Otto Christmas story, but that's beside the point. Hm... I don't think I'd want bug powers, either. I'd want something like telekinesis.

Penguin Peace!


	22. They Came Slashing and Biting

FATR: Wow, is it wrong that this was so damn _fun_ to write? Because it was a bloody blast/evil laugh/ Oh, Otto. You know I only do this because I care… and because both of my muses have their own individual motives for wanting you to suffer… It took me forever to dredge up the inspiration to work on this. We're feeling pretty good about this, but if we don't see any positive feedback… Well, my muses will have to spend the night chained up in the leaky shed without any food and only the water that comes through the ceiling. (One muse whimpers and the other muse cheers.) Uh… /blinks at the cheering muse/ Well, okay, then! Let's get this chip chip on!

X)O(X

Ana smirked at the octopus' show of resistance, not the least bit intimidated by the angry red eyes that were trained upon her. "How cute, my little octopus has finally grown a backbone," she sneered. "I was beginning to think you as spineless as your namesake." Otto only snarled back, actuators snapping and hissing. Ana's amused smirk faded into a dark scowl. "Bad octopus. Sit." With those words she levitated the chairs Stephanie and Otto had occupied not long before and hurled them at the scientist. The actuators made quick work of them, but she had really just been distracting him from the table that came hurtling at him from behind.

One of his pets shrieked urgently and he whipped around just in time to catch a table in the gut. The harness acted as armor, protecting what his ribs could not, but he still went down. Air was jarred silently from his lungs when the spinal brace and the machinery on his back were abruptly press into him. He rolled onto his side, coughing and gasping. The actuators recovered quickly, each of them dipping to push their creator to his knees.

Ana wouldn't give him a chance to get up and regain his composure. "Stay," she snarled and hurled some heavy lab equipment at him. His top right tentacle shielded him from the worst of the impact but he still sat down sideways. Sparks flew as she ripped one of the larger computers from the wall and brought it to hover over him.

Otto saw the shadow blanketing him and the area immediately around him. He looked over his shoulder via actuator vision just in time to see the unwieldy object plummeting toward him. He caught it with all four actuators, letting them sink a little under its force, and launched it back at her. He heard a startled squawk and a soft thud as it connected with its target. There was a loud, bone crushing crash as it landed with her under it. Otto pushed himself up with one of his lower tentacles, the other three poised to attack. Two hands grabbed him from behind and he struck with his actuators as he turned to face her.

Stephanie let out a startled squeak as the pincers clamped around her throat and grabbed the mechanical arm with both hands. When his gaze fell on her, his expression softened and the actuator released her.

"Sorry," Otto responded distractedly.

Stephanie sucked in air, her hand gingerly rubbing her bruising throat. "You almost killed me!"

"I thought you were…" Otto glanced back to the pile of rubble instead of finishing his sentence. Blood was pooling out from under it, but that didn't mean anything. He took two shaky steps toward it then stopped.

"What the hell just happened here?" Stephanie demanded, still indignant.

"It's a long story…" Otto knew Ana couldn't be dead. There was no way it could've been that easy. He had to lift the shattered and smoking computer to be certain, but he would be vulnerable at such close range and with all of his actuators occupied. His eyes darted to Stephanie but he doubted she possessed the necessary power. Then again, he didn't need to lift it, just flip it off. The scientist took two more steps and reluctantly took hold of the debris with his top two actuators, wanting his two strongest ones free if he had to fight. He'd been afraid she'd try to zap him as soon as he touched anything near her, but she didn't. Nothing stirred. Otto took a breath and flipped the computer aside. A startled gasp escaped his throat. There was nothing there. He whipped around, using his actuators to try and watch everything at once.

Stephanie was staring at the puddle of blood blankly. "Where'd she-" Her question was interrupted by a sound like a demonic hyena laughing.

"Otto, Otto, Otto…" Ana's voice cackled from everywhere at once. "You should know by now that I'm not quite that easy to get rid of."

Otto's heart thundered in his chest as he desperately tried to seek out the source of her voice. That laugh felt like frosty daggers puncturing his very being. "Where are you?"

"Over here."

Otto's actuators snapped around but the lab was empty aside from him and Stephanie. "Enough games! Come out and fight me!"

"But this is so much more fun."

That time Otto felt ghostly breath on the back of his neck. He roared and spun around, swinging with his fist. Again, he encountered nothing but empty air. He caught sight of Stephanie hugging herself and shrinking back against a table. Her wide, terror stricken eyes met his own as the sinister sound echoed around them again. Stephanie didn't really know anything about Ana, but anyone could feel the evil in that sadistic laugh. "What's wrong, Ana? Are you afraid to face us in a fair fight?" Otto's pets snapped and hissed to back him up.

"You're the one who's afraid, octopus," Ana hissed as the light began to leave the room. "I can see them inside of you, inside your soul. You're the one who's lost…"

Otto's eyes darted around the swiftly gathering darkness. He could hear things in it, things he couldn't and didn't want to name.

"Confused…"

Everything familiar was swallowed up by the impenetrable black fog. Even his actuator's voices were growing faint in his head. "Stephanie?" He called out weakly. The circle of dim light around him continued to shrink as his voice fell flat at his feet.

"Alone…"

Howling and gurgling drifted out of the fog from all sides. Otto's knees trembled, the already hefty actuators seeming to double and triple in weight. He heard scuffling claws and slurping tongues. When he backed away from something that sounded particularly large stomping towards him, his foot temporarily left the relative safety of what little light there was and kicked something wet.

"Vulnerable…"

Otto stumbled back, tripping on the still, lifeless form of an actuator and losing his glasses. He didn't notice this, however, because all of his attention was focused on the infernal, yellow eyes floating in the black wall. He scuttled backward, covering his eyes with one hand so he wouldn't have to see whatever terror was pealing away from the shadows. Claws dug into his shoulders from behind, tearing his coat and flesh as he jerked away with a loud cry. He landed on his back and caught a brief glimpse of the hellish deformities closing in on him. Their eyes glowed and their vile drool splattered around him. A few hissing drops landed on him, eating through his clothing and burning his arms, chest, and face. Their teeth were crooked, some rotting and jagged, some razor sharp and gleaming like daggers. He felt something heavy and slick gliding up body and screamed, trying to command the actuators to do something, anything, before he was devoured by the rotting, wreaking things. His actuators lay dead around him as the claws seized upon him, ripping easily into his limbs.

Stephanie stared in horror as Otto writhed on the floor, screaming and foaming at the mouth. His actuators twitched wildly, wracked by whatever spasms shook their master. The scientists eyes were rolled back to show only the whites and blood was beginning to trickle out of his nose. Stephanie broke her trance and dove to his side, dodging the flailing tentacles. "Otto! Otto, please! Wake up!" His screams were beginning to gurgle away into wet, labored breaths. Was he having a seizure? "Come on, Otto, I don't know what to do!"

"Help!" Otto yelled, rolling his side to fend off a reptilian beast that had been about to take a chunk out of his throat. The teeth buried in his forearm instead and he cried out still again. "Help me, please, someone!" Otto's desperate shriek fell flat in the fog and was swallowed up by the baying of the slavering creatures that clambered over each other in an attempt to reach him.

"Why should I help you?" Ana's voice still came from nowhere and everywhere all at once. "You've been little more than a waste of my precious time, you feeble shell of a man."

"I can do better, I can!"

Stephanie felt tears pricking her eyes. "Help!" She hollered, tearing herself away from Otto to run to and pound on the lab door. It wouldn't open. She slammed on the pad that was supposed to open it but nothing happened. "Oh, god, someone, please! He's dying!"

The hell beasts had ceased their bloodthirsty rending of his flesh, but they were still ogling him with starving eyes. Otto took this chance to push himself up on one tattered human arm and fought down a wave of nausea. He heard footsteps clicking through the pitch, approaching him from behind. Otto swallowed hard, wondering what would come next.

"Better than my new little protégé? She's so much more receptive of the ideals I tried to instill in you. You, my little octopus, are far too smart for your own good, and I'll not have you poisoning her." She kicked him in the back, right between the ridges on the spinal brace. He roared in pain and sprawled on the ground, shoulders heaving with sobs.

"I can't fail her again... I can't fail Rosie again…"

Ana kicked him in the side to roll him on his back and pinned him with a high-heeled boot in the middle of his chest. "Your pathetic love for that stupid wench makes you weak and useless," she sneered as she spat in his face. When he only whimpered for Rosie again, she kicked him in the side of his head and turned her back. "Finish him," she instructed the fiends.

"No!" Otto screamed as they surged toward him again. "I don't want to die! Please!"

Ana turned back to him and knelt, straddling his torso. "What do you want, Otto?"

Otto trembled. "I want… I want Rosie…"

"And?" Ana pressed harshly, bracing herself with one hand by his head as she leaned closer.

And what? What else did she want him to say? He caught sight of his useless actuators throwing back the little bit of light that remained. His eyes locked with Ana's as he whispered, "And I want them gone. I just want my life back the way it was, before…"

Ana snorted dismissively and rose to her feet. "You don't have the stomach for this sort of thing."

Otto threw himself at her retreating form and grabbed for the hem of her sheer black robes. "I do! What must I do to prove that?"

Ana turned and favored the pathetic man on his hands and knees in front of her with a disdainful look. "There's nothing," she finally said.

"Please," Otto begged, sensing the monsters closing in behind him. Something started crawling up his back. "Please, I beg of you! I'll be good, I promise!"

Ana's eyes glowed. "I don't want you to be good, Otto, I want you to be evil. I want you to be pure, unadulterated evil."

"Just tell me what to do," Otto hissed.

Ana gazed at the darkness in Otto's eyes and smirked. "Kill Wilson Fisk."

Otto gaped. She wanted him to kill Fisk? How could… Then his face turned stony. "It will be done," he promised in a voice that was little more than a growl. "And what after that?"

The grin slithered across the demonic Nasarian's face and she caressed his cheek. He winced as she ran her finger along the length of a particularly nasty gash. "All in due time, my little octopus. All in due time." She pressed her clawed finger into the gash, relishing the way he almost collapsed under the agony.

Otto clasped his hand to his cheek with a gasp and watched her saunter into the inky fog. The creatures slunk away after her. He sat down cross-legged and ran his gory hand up his face and through his hair, suddenly overcome with a splitting migraine.

The physicist had stopped moving a while ago, except for a slight jerking of his head and the feeble twitches of his actuators. Stephanie knelt over him. Unable to find a pulse, she'd just plopped down next to him, cradling his hand and crying. His figures moved in her hand and her head snapped up. "Otto?"

He groaned, allowing his eyes to flutter open before promptly shutting them against the harsh laboratory lights. He heard faint scrambling sounds and felt something being slid over his ears. His eyes opened once more and for a moment he was confused by the gray-brown world that met them. Then he remembered what had happened and groaned.

"Can you hear me?" Stephanie was inquiring urgently. "Come on, Otto, say something…"

Otto put a hand on his forehead and said, "Ow…"

Stephanie felt her heart swell with relief as he sat up slowly and she threw her arms enthusiastically around him. "Fuck, I was so worried! I thought you'd died or…"

"Ow… back…"

Stephanie released him, smiling sheepishly. "I'm just so glad you're okay. You had a fit or…"

"I'm as well as can be expected, I suppose…" There was tired sarcasm in his voice. Otto wiped his hand across his mouth and stared at the blood tracing the creases in his skin.

"Here, let's get you cleaned up." She went to help him to his feet but he shook her off.

"I've got it," he growled.

"Well, fuck you too." Stephanie crossed her arms and buzzed away from him to poke through the papers on his desk. She heard the clank of his actuators on the floor followed by the sound of running water.

"We'll begin exercising your powers after lunch. I expect you to locate and tap an energy source by then."

Stephanie turned to gape at him. "What? How? I don't even…"

"What of those two you desire to kill?"

Her brow furrowed. "I told you I was kidding…"

Otto raised an eyebrow at her. "Were you?"

"Yes," Stephanie insisted, though she knew she didn't sound very convincing. She watched Otto smile knowingly and lean back over the sink. Her eyes drifted out of focus as she contemplated this. If she didn't torture Scott and Jason to death, which she really, really longed to do, she was pretty sure Mac would leap at the chance to fuck her. That latter option made her cringe slightly, and Otto had told her death energy was strongest. Stephanie sighed and slouched against the table. Rather than contemplate her options, she decided to ask, "Why wait until after lunch?"

"Well…" Otto dried off his hands and face then threw the paper towels in the trashcan. "It would allow you sufficient time to complete your assignment. First and foremost, however, I must remove a thorn that has been in my side for far too long already."

Stephanie tilted her head as she followed him to the door. "What?"

His back was to her so she didn't notice the sadistic smirk that contorted his face. "You're bound to find out sooner or later. Don't concern yourself with me, though, just focus on your task."

Stephanie shrugged it off and opted to focus on her own problems. The hunger was intensifying with each passing moment and all of her instincts were screaming at her to feed. Very well, then. She would feed…

X)O(X

FATR: For a look at the totally bitchin picture that inspired me, visit my profile. The link will be there. I wish I could post links here, but I also with I could've made the Otto torture scene longer. I guess we can have everything we want in life…

**Agent Silver: **I'm often too lazy to bother pressing that little button, so don't worry about it. I'm glad you like the story thus far, and I hope you enjoyed reading this chip chip as much as I enjoyed writing it.

**Lady Kayoss: **True… but having lots of people want to hang around you is overrated. Besides, she still has her supervillain friends! Was the confrontation exciting enough for you? It certainly was long enough coming.

**talkstoangels:** Well, I think nothing ever goes to plan because a lot of his fangirls like to torture him, but I suppose you do have to pity the guy. Thankies, I love cookies!

**Phoenix Sheriden: **I know, but I love evil cliffhangers. So, you'd like to negotiate a price on Otto, hm? (Ignores the chained up Otto's protests) Let's see… Well, I'll ship him and the chemical to you for a pair of socks and a block of cheese. I'll even pay shipping and handling. Deal?

**Moonjava: ** Thank you as always.

**aleeock:** Thankies! Talk to you as soon as my internet stops being wonky.


	23. Make a Mistake

FATR: Insert a disclaimer here. Let's see… I guess the only other comment I have is related to Scorpion's tail. In case it's not clear in this chip chip, I see it as functioning rather like Otto's actuators, with the needles in the spine and such. I don't know if that's really how Mac controls it, but it's the most sense I can make out of what the cartoon and what I've read on the subject have given me. So, I'm going to go finish nailing this crate shut /ignores the thumping inside the crate/ while you enjoy this fine chip chip.

X)O(X

The wind raked its fingers through Stephanie's hair. There was something truly invigorating about being up this high without anything under her feet. It was easier to think up there, away from the noise of civilization. As soon as she'd left the lab, she'd started towards the recreation room, but had flown right on past the door at the last minute. There were a number of confused reasons why she lost her nerve at the last instant. One reason was, even though it would have been the most powerful energy boost, she wasn't ready to dive head first into a splatter-fest. She really had been at least half kidding when she'd been speaking to Otto earlier. Now that she saw what that girl was really capable of… Even though part of her brain was screaming at her to just kill, the part of her brain that was still human had reservations. That's why she was up here, hovering over the roof in her makeshift costume; she had a lot of thinking to do, and she didn't think the time frame Otto had given her was fair. Being a supervillain was harder than she'd thought. It was preferable, for the moment, to hover up here in the soft rays of the sun and contemplate the bright sparkles that were the grounds' ponds and fountains.

Mac sat on the roof behind one of the fancy tower-ish things. He was pretty sure there was a proper, architectural term for them, but he didn't know or care about the name. Quinton and Max's teasing had eventually driven him up here. His tail thumped on the roof next to him, twitching like an angry cat's tail. Those two dumb asses... They could take their bug jokes and shove them. Besides, maybe now that Stephanie was part bug as well, she'd finally start to come around. Mac didn't have Max's self esteem issues, nothing close, but he was aware that most civilian girls would be disinclined to get involved with a criminal who could climb walls. All of these thoughts were all well and good, but even if he did ask her out, what could he say? _Hey, Steph, yah wanna go knock over a bank together or somethin? Oh, yeah, tha'd be jus' so smooth… Or maybe we could go buildin hoppin together? Jus' wha' kinda powers does she have now?_

The wind changed and a whirring sound pulled him out of his thoughts. The scorpion moved into a crouch and slunk across the roof. There were plenty of things for him to hide behind as he approached the source of the sound. He peered around a decorative gargoyle and spotted Stephanie hovering mere feet from him. Her wings were rainbow streaks in the still climbing sun. The shear shirt shimmered like water, leaving one with the impression of a mirage or a ghost. Mac straightened up slowly, waiting to see if she'd notice him. If she knew he was there, she didn't say anything. He had so many questions and he didn't know what to say first. Instead he cleared his throat. Stephanie looked over her shoulder at him, highlighted angelically by the sun. "Hey…"

Stephanie eyed him and felt the hunger intensify again. She'd never noticed the muscles rippling over his body before, at least not consciously. The spandex highlighted them perfectly, and she found her attention beginning to wander curiously below his waist. With a mental blink, she tossed the thought away. She couldn't very well jump him on the roof, anyway, though that had potential to be exciting. "What are you doing up here?"

It wasn't the warm welcome he'd hoped for, but it wasn't a complete brush off. "Thinkin. Wha' 'bout' you?"

Stephanie turned her back to him again and shrugged, smirking to herself. "Just thinking…" She could almost actually sense him responding to the coy note in her voice.

"Wha'cha doin in yah costume?" Mac moved a little closer to the edge of the roof. If he reached out he could most likely touch her.

"Some ideas are best entertained in an alternate state of mind. Don't tell me you don't have similar feelings on some level…" Stephanie laughed and turned to face him. "You're wearing your costume, too, after all." She buzzed down closer and hovered directly in front of him with her hands clasped behind her back. Yes, she could definitely sense him responding, beyond merely seeing his respiration increase. She could feel the pulse of his heart fluttering in the air around them. Her new instincts were taking over quickly, her human hesitations no match for the starvation, and she found herself flittering closer still. This was closer than she'd ever dared to get on purpose, except for that time they wrestled. "Penny for your thoughts?" She tilted her head slightly and blinked once.

That one simple blink sent tingles down his spine. Her hair shifted softly against her shoulders and a few strands fell across her cheek. Mac swallowed hard. This apparent change of heart wasn't entirely out of the blue, but it was still pretty sudden. "I…" The head tilt had put her iridescent lips at a perfect angle for kissing. He gazed into those eyes and couldn't speak, so he showed her what he had been thinking about. Her lips were soft against his lips and he brought one gloved hand up to caress her cheek.

Stephanie touched his hand and closed her eyes. Heat surged through her veins as her heart pounded harder and she had to breathe through her mouth when he pulled away. This was so easy, and so perfect. Her fingers played over his mask while her eyes searched what she could see of his face. "You want to do this out here or go inside?"

Mac's heart leaped. "Wha'?"

Stephanie—Dragonfly—let her hands trace over his broad shoulders and drift down his chest. "You know what. Don't tell me you've lost interest," she pouted flirtatiously. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her against him, and she knew she'd won. Then again, it hadn't been much of a fight. Two leaps and they were on the other side of the roof, Dragonfly giggling with exhilaration as she clung to the arachnid's neck. He swung off the edge of the roof, through an open window, and into his room. Dragonfly jumped on Scorpion and wrapped her legs around his waist. His solid arms squeezed her as she probed his mouth with her tongue. The taste of his breath consumed her and before she knew it she was on her back with his weight pressing her into the mattress.

Mac had dreamed of this moment for months. Both of them were rapidly losing their clothing and he touched her face again with his bare hand. Her golden skin was like silk under his finger tips and her hair was surprisingly cool to the touch. He traced kisses down her throat and started to take off the harness that held the tail on his back. Dragonfly took his wrists and shook her head. Mac hesitated then closed his eyes and kissed her again. It was strange to him, but he didn't want to question this sudden turn of luck with her.

X)O(X

Otto lingered at the door to the stairwell for some time after Stephanie had disappeared into some recess of the house. He knew what he had to do, but some part of him couldn't help being afraid. Ana had told him to kill Fisk as though Otto could just waltz right into Fisk's room and stab Fisk through the chest. Fisk had armed body guards, though, and who knew what other sources on call. Otto highly doubted Max would take Fisk's side over Otto's, but what about Mac and Quinton? Of course, if Stephanie lost her nerve to kill, Mac would probably be a little busy… Otto shuddered at the thought and quickly brushed it aside. Quinton didn't even have any real powers that Otto knew of, so Quinton wasn't a threat.

That left at least five men with guns, and Fisk who was much stronger than he looked. Not all of his bulk was fat (quite the opposite, actually). Otto figured it would take at the very least two tentacles to finish the job, but he'd rather do it with three. That left one to deal with anyone else that attacked, and, though he hated to think of it, Otto was still decidedly susceptible to bullets. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. Since when had his life become so incredibly and utterly sucky? He looked at his pets. _Oh, yeah, right…_

His tentacles hissed at him and writhed indignantly, protesting that it was the fusion reactor and not them that had screwed up his life. They insisted they were his best and only friends and that the five of them combined were certainly enough to dispose of Fisk. His pets had never liked the way Otto cringed and bowed to Fisk's whims and they couldn't understand why there was even any question about whether or not to kill the oversized crime lord.

_I'm not questioning whether or not to kill him; I merely believe we shouldn't be rash about it. This is a very delicate operation. I feel my… caution is justified. _He wanted to hit himself, though, because he was being cowardly. This had to be done, and he was going to do it. Once Fisk was out of his way, Otto could go about getting the stone back unencumbered, via any means necessary. Just as he steeled himself for the task and completely left the stairwell, Nathan intercepted him. The man looked nervous and twitchy, but Otto wasn't surprised.

"Master Fisk wants to see you right now." Nathan tried to keep his voice commanding but there was a terrifying grimace on Doc Ock's face. That man seemed to have been going through a lot of mood swings lately, which only made Nathan even more skittish about interacting with him. The grimace was replaced by a darkly amused grin.

"Fisk wants to see me?" Otto burst out laughing at the irony of it all. He was too worn out to be afraid of what the Kingpin might want with him. After all, even if Fisk chose to kill him, it couldn't be much worse than being ripped apart by those demonic things. In response to the alarm on Nathan's face, Otto explained, "You see," chuckle, "I was just about to go looking for him."

Nathan cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. "Yes, well, this way, then…"

Otto followed Nathan, trying to keep from cracking on the spot. His mind was teetering on the edge of an awfully dark abyss, and he couldn't decide if Fisk calling him was a good omen or a bad omen. He opened the link to his actuators and cast nervous glances in every direction at once as they approached the heavy oak door. There were two guards, men in black suits with serious looking guns, posted at the door. Otto figured he could handle two, and the operation would go smoothly as long as there were no more inside. The scientist held his breath as he stepped through the door. Nathan didn't follow. In fact, he was alone with the Kingpin. The large man was nothing more than a dark blob silhouetted against the large window on the left wall. Otto was incredibly tempted to ram two actuators through the man's back and be done with it. Even as the bottom two tensed to follow this command, Fisk turned around and Otto was forced to call off the attack.

"Dr. Octavius…" Fisk scrutinized the other man. "I'm a man who prefers to protect his investments, and I'm not a man to beat around the bush. You've been summoned here to continue our business from yesterday."

Otto smiled bitterly. "I take it you found the payoff insufficient then." Of course Otto had known that no matter what he brought back Fisk wouldn't have let this matter drop.

"I've heard some very unsettling rumors today, involving you and one of my household staff. A girl named Stephanie?" Fisk lumbered across the room and stood behind his desk. "As I told you before, I prefer to protect my investments. Therefore, my first impulse on this matter is to talk it out civilly, man to man, and perhaps reach a mutually beneficial conclusion. I hope you agree."

"And if I don't?" Otto's tone wasn't defiant or fearful. It was a genuine question, designed to gather as much information as possible about the situation. How much did Fisk really know? And just what did he intend to do about it?

"Despite your recent acts of deception, you've been a valuable contributor during your time of employment. Personally, I'd hate to lose you."

Otto stared at Fisk in silence. The larger man didn't know anything, beyond hearing some rumors about Stephanie's transformation. He was absolutely oblivious to the fact that Otto might try to kill him. That was how confident the Kingpin was of his power over the four supervillains living under his roof. Fortunately, this gave Otto the element of surprise. Now if only he could find the right opening. Behind his glasses, his eyes wandered the room, and eventually landed on the snarling thing perched on the back of Fisk's tall backed chair. Otto gulped.

"Are you listening to me, Octavius?"

Otto blinked and the creature was gone. "Uh…" He looked down and ran his hand through his hair. The headache had returned. It wasn't a full-fledged migraine yet, just a dull pounding in the back of his head that could escalate at any moment. "I… Yes…" He cleared his throat. "What, um, exactly is it you want from me?"

Fisk leaned across the desk and glared at Otto with icy blue eyes. "Is it or isn't it true that Stephanie has undergone some unnatural changes of late?"

The headache was spreading through Otto's brain like a sunrise sweeping across the land. His tentacles began undulating and shifting more restlessly than usual. "I… couldn't say…"

"But you were seen with her this morning, and reliable sources inform me there was a scuffle in the kitchen earlier."

"You don't know that we were the one's fighting," Otto growled, slightly more sharply than intended.

"But you admit there was a fight."

Otto's fists clenched at his sides as he fought the budding headache and the growing ringing in his ears. "The other three bicker all the time." The bottom right tentacle curled under the desk and tensed to strike. He would have to kill Fisk in has few blows as possible, and with as little warning as possible.

Fisk slammed a meaty fist on the table, cracking the wood. "God damn it, Octavius, you tell me what you've been up to!"

"No!" Otto screamed and launched the tentacle up and into the round, white stomach. He'd misjudged the force needed to puncture through to the vital organs, however, as Fisk was much more solidly built than he appeared.

Hot pain spread from the point of penetration. At first the crime lord was confused, too shocked to think that anyone would dare to attack him. He gripped the skeletal arm as it struggled to dive deeper but only barely held it at bay. "Guards…" He choked out weakly. A second tentacle flew at him with the aim of smashing his skull and Fisk caught it with one hand. "Guards!" Two more tentacles grasped his wrists as the doors smashed open.

Otto froze at the sound of guns being cocked. It sounded like there were about five of them. The odds that he could do away with them all before he was shot were slim. There was no choice but to try, though. A bullet through his brain would be preferable to being torn apart by hell beasts. He spun to face the men in black suits and lashed out with all of his tentacles at once, leaving Fisk to bleed on the floor. Three's speed was impeded by first having to withdraw from Fisk's flesh.

Gunshots echoed through the room as two of the men were sideswiped into the man between them. Three skulls cracked together and they crumpled to the floor. The bullets from the other two guns whizzed around him but one of his pets deflected the lethal ones while the other took out the gunmen. One of the bullets, however, slid through and grazed his cheek. The biting agony was disturbingly similar to the feeling of the fiends' claws. Otto braced himself on this lower left actuator as he turned to finish off Fisk. Before he could even get half way around, fire ripped through the artificial spine and the tentacle he was leaning on gave him out from under him.

Everything was shrouded in a gray haze but Fisk stubbornly held out against death. While his would-be murderer was distracted, the crime lord snatched a decorative letter opener off his desk, leaving a streak of blood, and stabbed half-blindly for Otto's back. He heard the scrape of metal on metal and feared for a moment that the blow had only glanced off the harness, but the way Otto collapsed told him differently. Fisk's bloody fingers slid off the weapon when the scientist pitched forward, leaving the instrument lodged between two segments of the metal spine.

Otto twitched in agony and clawed at the thing in his back but couldn't muster the strength to remove it. His bottom two tentacles were useless, either because of severed wires or because the neural link was being blocked. There was no time to think about it, but he sincerely hoped it wasn't the former. He sent the top two to latch onto either side of Fisk's head and squeezed. The migraine pounded in his temples and pulsed in his eyes, but he focused on nothing outside of crushing the other man's skull. Fisk screamed and grasped wildly at the claws but there was nothing he could do about it. Otto squeezed harder and a loud _CRACK_ abruptly ended the cries of anguish.

X)O(X

Soft moans and heavy breathing were the only sounds in the dimly lit room. Scorpion ran his hands down Dragonfly's sides and grabbed her hips. She arched her back and pressed her breasts against him. Heat prickled through his shoulder blades as her nails dug in and dragged down, leaving five red furrows on each side. His hands tightened their hold and the moaning and gasping escalated. They came at the same time and he collapsed on top of her, loving her soft warmth. It made him feel on top of the world. In fact, he couldn't recall feeling this great since… since a long time ago. "Steph…" He whispered and gave her a soft kiss on the neck.

Stephanie opened her eyes, startled by the tender tone of his voice. He raised himself on his hands and looked down at her, past the mask she still wore, and into her eyes. At that moment she didn't see Scorpion looking down at her, she saw Mac looking out at her through Scorpion's mask. Her breath caught in her throat and she couldn't move as they gazed into each other's eyes. He didn't lust after her, he… loved her. This was bad. This was a mistake! "I…" She jerked her eyes away and pushed him off. "I've gotta go." She found her clothing and tossed it on quickly.

"Wha's wrong?" Mac sat on the bed and watched her. This wasn't a good sign. He knew her sudden change of heart seemed too good to be true, but…

"Nothing, I just… I have to go, now…" Stephanie hopped up on the sill of the open window without looking back.

"Will I see yah later?" He watched her go perfectly still and gaze out across the garden. He would have given anything to know what she was thinking at that moment, but somehow he felt it wouldn't be comforting. The stillness seemed to last forever.

"I… I guess that's inevitable, huh?"

With those unpromising words, she disappeared over the edge. Mac listened to the whirring noise fade into the golden afternoon. What on earth had he done wrong? She had come on to him. Hadn't she? He ran the scenario through his head over and over again and still reached that same conclusion. So what on earth had he done wrong?

X)O(X

FATR: Just one /finishes nailing Otto's crate closed/ There, that's done… Oh, finished already, are we? Well, my muses appreciate the reviews, as do I. Why not go write another one, hm?

**Ottea Octavius: **Otto can't catch a break, can he? Ironic that you just happened to review the two stories my muses chose to update. I say my muses because hey, let's face it, they're the ones controlling the creativity gates /sigh/ Anyway, thanks for joining us and I hope to hear from you again.

**talkstoangels:** Thankies.

**Phoenix Sheriden: **See? It's not as simple as just walking in and killing Fisk. Nothing is ever simple, is it? And don't you just hate temperamental muses? It took them five months to get around to letting me update Cat and a Half. Anyway, don't worry about what type of sock, but I would prefer provolone cheese /knocks on crate/ Otto is on his way. Maybe he'll be helpful as a stand in muse for a while, hm? Oh, and when you're done, Lady Kayoss would like to borrow him too, okies? See you next chip chip.

**Agent Silver: **Hm… I can't predict how I'll react to things before hand. It all depends on previous events and the like. Anyway, yes, evil, and yes, fun. Guess what else? This chip chip was fun too! See you next time, perhaps?

**LadyKayoss: **I'm waiting for Phoenix Sheriden's reply /ignores Otto's protests that he's not an object to be bartered for and passed around/ so we'll just have to see. That totally sucks about the scanners, but I can be patient. Otto as the next Catwoman /snicker/ Am I the only one who thinks he'd look good in tight black leather? Especially Ultimate Otto /drool/ ANY- hoo… Thanks for the review and see you again, I hope.

**Moonjava**: Thank you as always.

Penguin Peace!


End file.
